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The water crept up. — Page 284 






“'the HESTER BOOKS 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 

A STOEY OF BOAEDING SCHOOL LIFE 
y 

by; 

JEAN K. BAIRD 

Author of “ The Coming of Hester’* 

ILLUSTRATED BY AD ELE W. JONES 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


Published, August, 1910 



Copyright, 1910, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


All Rights Reserved 


Hester’s Counterpart 




NORWOOD PRESS 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 


NORWOOD, MASS. 
U. S. A 


(0,C!.A268602 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


The water crept up (Page 284) . . Frontispiece 

Facing Page 

‘‘I am Helen Loraine’’ 68 

Again Hester deftly returned it 92 

‘^Oh, girls, do you happen to have any cold 
cream V 122 

^‘You remember me, I see. Miss Alden^’ . . . 150 


They held their breath 


290 




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{ 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


CHAPTER I 

"P^EBBY ALDEN, to use her own adjective 
in regard to herself, was not “slack.” 
To this her friends added another term. 
Debby was “set.” There could he no doubt 
of that. 

When Hester was but twelve years old, 
Debby had decided that the girl should have at 
least one year at the best hoarding-school. 
Four years had passed, during which time, 
Debby ’s purpose had remained firm, although 
not yet ripe for perfecting. 

After the experience with Mary Bowerman’s 
taunts and Abner Stout’s guile, Debby decided 
that the time had come for Hester to have a 
change of environment. Miss Richards’s ad- 
vice was again sought. But that old friend 
no longer held the full power in her 
1 


2 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


hands. Debby bad grown alive and alert. She 
knew the standing of the schools throughout 
the State, and in what particular line of study 
or discipline each one excelled. 

For months, she studied catalogues and es- 
timated expenses. She had never made a study 
of psychology; hut she understood that Hester 
had reached the most impressionable age of 
her life. Each thought and word would leave 
its marks upon her. Debby, who believed firmly 
that tendencies are inherited, had always with 
her the fear that Hester would show the tend- 
encies of an alien race. Her one consolation 
was that much may be overcome by training, 
and too, perhaps, there was in Hester’s veins 
only a drop of darker blood. 

No one understood the position in which 
Debby Alden was placed. She always held her- 
self responsible for the death of Hester’s 
mother. Duty had compelled her to take care 
of the child, until love had come to her as a re- 
ward for the fulfillment of duty. 

There was no one to whom she could speak 
concerning Hester and her fears in regard to 
her. One thing she had done and would do; 


HESTER’S COHNTEEPART 


3 


she would keep the child far removed from any 
influence which would tend to the strengthening 
of those traits which are supposed rightfully 
to belong to the race of slaves. 

Debby consulted principals and teachers and 
read and re-read catalogues. At length, she 
decided upon Dickinson Seminary as the school 
which came nearest to fulfilling her desires for 
Hester. 

Hester had always been sweet and submis- 
sive to Debby Alden. The girl had more than 
love for the woman who was mother and father 
both to her. Mingled with Hester’s love for 
Debby was an inexpressible gratitude. Hester 
realized how much Debby had done and was do- 
ing for her. But it was not the dainty dresses 
and good home that touched her most. Debby 
Alden had given the waif her mother’s name, 
and Hester never wrote in her big angular hand, 
Hester Palmer Alden, without feeling a glow of 
pride. She had a name of which to be proud, 
a name which Debby Alden had always held 
dear. 

“It was the very kindest thing Aunt Debby 
could do,” was a thought which came often to 


4 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Hester. “She must have loved me even from 
the first, or she would have never given me her 
own name. She’s so proud of being an Alden. 
Their name has never had a bit of shame or dis- 
grace touch it.” Then she added an after- 
thought, “and it never will through me.” 

One day she brought up the subject of the 
Alden name while in conversation with her aunt. 
Hester expressed herself warmly on the sub- 
ject and the elder woman listened with a light- 
ening heart. The pride of the Alden name 
and family which Hester showed, pleased her. 
To Debby came the thought that only those who 
had such birthrights could comprehend and ap- 
preciajte .the hpnor of po^essing them. For a 
moment, she believed that she might have been 
mistaken in regard to Hester’s parentage; but 
just for a moment. She could not close her 
eyes to facts. She, herself, had seen the purple 
tinge about the finger nails of the woman and 
had observed the lips and eyes which were pe- 
culiar to another race. 

“It was beautiful of you. Aunt Debby, to give 
me your name, and I’ll never, never bring shame 
to it.” 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


5 


“Let us talk no more of the subject,” was the 
curt rejoinder. “We have much to do before 
you are ready to go to Dickinson, and we must 
not spend our time in telling what is to be done 
or not to be done a dozen years from now.” 

Hester was drying the dishes. At the men- 
tion of going to school, she stopped. Eegard- 
less of consequences, she raised her tea-towel 
in one hand like a banner, and Aunt Debby’s 
blue cream jug, a relic of the Alden family, high 
in the other. 

“Dickinson Seminary!” she exclaimed in a 
voice pitched high with nervousness. “I’ll tell 
you right this minute. Aunt Debby, I will not 
go.” 

Had the ceiling fallen down upon her, Debby 
Alden could not have been more surprised. 
Hester, the obedient, now in the guise of an in- 
surgent. 

“Will not, Hester Palmer Alden, is not the 
word to use to me. I am the one to decide 
what is best for you to do or not to do, and I’ve 
decided upon your going to Dickinson.” 

The voice of the speaker was strong with the 
Alden firmness and decision. Perhaps, she 


6 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


forced herself to unusual firmness lest her great 
love for the girl should make her weak in disci- 
pline. She expected that Hester, having once 
made so strong an aflSrmation, would cling to it 
and perhaps be inclined to disputation. On the 
contrary, Hester began to sob. 

Debby turned to look at the girl, down whose 
cheeks the tears were streaming. Then she 
said with a show of gentleness: “It’s only 
natural that you feel bad about leaving home. 
Everyone does that. I really should not feel 
pleased if you did not feel bad. You can not 
give up to that feeling. I do not mean to per- 
mit you to do so. School is the best place for 
you, and you must go. You’ll enjoy it after a 
while.” 

“I was not thinking about myself. Aunt 
Debby. I was thinking of you. Do you think 
that I can ever enjoy being away and having a 
good time while you are here alone ? ’ ’ 

“I was used to being alone before you — ” 

“But you are not used to it now. I’ll think 
of you sitting here alone in the evening. Every 
time you leave the house you’ll he alone and 
you’ll come into a lonely house when you come 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


7 


back. I will not go and leave you here, Aunt 
Debby, and you cannot make me.” 

“Hester Alden — .” Debby Alden meant to 
be firm. It was scandalous to have a child so 
express herself to her elder, and that elder as a 
mother to her. Debby Alden would not be 
weak. She would be firm, and not so much as 
allow Hester to express an opinion. 

“Hester Alden,” she began, but could say 
no more because of a queer little catch in her 
voice. She turned back to her dish-pan and fell 
with great vigor to her dishwashing. After a 
few moments, she felt that she could control her- 
self, and turning to Hester, said, “Now, Hester 
Alden, we’ll have done with this nonsense right 
here. I’ve been alone and stood it fairly well 
and I can stand it again. What does it matter 
if I am alone? I’m no longer a young girl who 
demands company. I’m just a plain old — ” 

“Why, Aunt Debby — ^you are not. Doesn’t 
everyone say you’re beautiful, and you’re not 
old — and you’re never going to get old.” Hes- 
ter turned and brought her foot down with some 
vigor, as though she would frighten old age and 
gray hair and loneliness from the house. 


8 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


“Why, Aunt Debby, everyone says you’re 
beautiful. The girls at school — 

Debby ’s cheeks flushed. There was some- 
thing very sweet in the assertion, although she 
did not believe it even for a moment. But in all 
her forty years, no one had ever used that word 
in speaking of Debby. Although she felt that 
even now love, and not facts, was making use of 
it, she was touched. She was a woman after 
all, and it was sweet to find herself beautiful in 
someone’s eyes. 

But discipline must be maintained. She 
turned toward Hester. The girl threw her 
arms about Debby Alden’s neck and sobbed, and 
Debby held up her kitchen apron before her eyes 
and wept silently. 

“There, Hester, there!” she said at last. 
“We’re both very silly, very silly. You must 
go to school and that’s an end to it.” 

“No, Aunt Debby. I’ll never go and leave 
you here alone. If I go, you must go with me.” 

‘ ‘ Go with you ! That is the veriest nonsense, 
Hester. Debby Alden in a seminary. I’m not 
in my second childhood yet.” 

“But you could live in town. Marne Thomas 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


9 


has a cousin who lives in a little flat. She’s a 
widow and keeps her girls in school. Couldn’t 
you go and live there. We could see each 
other — 

“The dish-water is getting cold. Really, 
Hester, you and I are getting slack. I believe 
that is the first time in my life that I ever stood 
talking and let my dish-water get cold. It isn’t 
a good way of doing. Mother never allowed us 
to be slack about such things. I was not 
brought up to talk first and work afterward. 
Think of me, a woman my age, doing such a 
thing!” 

Taking up the dish-pan, she left the kitchen 
to empty the water. Hester dried her tears. 
Her heart grew light. She understood Aunt 
Debby well and she knew that the talk about 
letting the work stand was only a chastisement 
Debby was giving herself, when she felt herself 
yielding. 

The subject was again discussed during the 
evening. No decision was reached. Debby, 
however, conceded enough to say that she would 
think the matter over and would ask Miss Rich- 
ards’s opinion concerning it. 


10 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Hester was fully satisfied with this. She 
knew that her Aunt Debby never forgot a prom- 
ise. Hester knew also that Miss Richards 
would advise Debby Alden to spend a winter in 
the city. 

The following day, after the housework had 
been finished and the dinner dishes put away, 
Debby Alden dressed and went to call upon her 
friend. 

Hester went with her, as far as Jane Orr’s 
home. “I’ll be back shortly, Hester. You 
may stay with Jane until I call for you.” 

She made her way down the main street of 
the little country town. 

Hester paused as she was about to mount the 
steps, and turned to look at the retreating 
figure. She could not restrain a smile. “It’s 
certainly odd, but Aunt Debby doesn’t seem to 
know how pretty she is.” 

Hester’s adjective was not strong enough to 
describe Aunt Debby. There was something 
infinitely greater and finer in the woman than 
mere prettiness. 

Debby Alden at twenty-five had been scrawny, 
hard-featured and severe. She then had the 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


11 


appearance of one who knew only the hard 
things of life, and was giving expression to 
them in her features and carriage. But this 
new Dehby Alden was wholly different. Hes- 
ter had brought love and interest with her. 
Dehby Alden was alive to the world about her, 
and her active interests had given brilliance to 
her eyes and lightness to her steps. The angles 
of twenty-five years had been softened into 
curves. Debby was no longer hard-featured 
and scrawny. She had grown plump and 
round. 

Some old wise man declares that it is 
woman’s fault if she be not handsome at forty 
years ; for then the body is but the refiection of 
life itself. Debby had been so true and faith- 
ful and so big-hearted and generous, that at 
forty, beautiful was the only word worthy to de- 
scribe her. 

Debby ’s call upon Miss Richards was short. 
To-day was one day when all things were work- 
ing toward favoring Hester’s project. 

Miss Richards was growing old. She did not 
wish to travel alone or to be far from her 
friends. She was dainty, gracious, and smiling 


12 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 

as ever, but age bad laid its finger lightly upon 
her. 

She listened to Debby Alden’s plans. 

“You are young yet, Debby,” she said. “No 
woman should be content to sit at home and not 
improve her time. With Hester gone, there 
will be nothing to keep you here. The school 
is but a short distance from town. Why not 
rent a small flat?” 

“But what would I do with no responsibili- 
ties ? Keeping two or three rooms in order will 
not employ my time.” 

“Lockport is famed for lectures and reci- 
tals. Study-clubs are plentiful. You could 
read and study and you might practise your 
music, Debby. A few lessons will do you 
worlds of good.” 

“Lessons when I am almost forty years 
old!” 

“Forty years young, my dear girl. Lessons, 
why not? Life is one long school term. The 
pupil who expects a hundred-mark must be 
learning and moving onward all the time. I 
am more than twenty years your senior, and 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


13 


yet I feel as though I was but beginning to 
learn how to live.” 

She paused a moment. Her mind dwelt on 
the things which were past. Then with a 
radiant smile, she turned to her companion. 
“Be very much alive while you are alive, 
Debby. The interests you have outside your- 
self will add to your own happiness. If you 
wish to find perfect happiness, fill your life 
with vital interests. Go to Lockport, study, 
read and work; see Hester when your heart 
longs for her. I — ” she paused, wondering 
if Debby would accept her suggestion. 

“I should like to be with you, Debby. I need 
something new. Each winter I have been 
south for so many years that it is a story oft 
told. Do you think that you and I could be 
happy together in a little fiat? Hester then 
could have two hearts to fill with interest.” 

She looked wistfully toward Debby. For 
the first time Debby realized that her old friend 
was alone — very much alone as far as hearth- 
ties and love were concerned. It was not with 
thoughts of her own enjoyment that Debby ’s 


14 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


heart bounded. As an inspiration, it came to 
her that she held within her hands that which 
would fill the void in her friend’s life. 

“I am sure we could,” said Debby. “We 
might as well settle the matter here, and we’ll 
go to town this very week, attend to selecting 
Hester’s room and we’ll look up a nice little 
place for ourselves. We’ll not have it too far 
from the school.” 

Then observing Miss Richards smiling, she 
added, “ I presume you think I’m a little hasty ; 
but I don’t see it in just that way. Anyone 
with judgment can readily see that it is just 
the thing for us to do. When our minds are 
made up, there’s no use in being slack. We’ll 
go Thursday. Hester may stay with Jane 
Orr. Mrs. Orr will be glad to have her. And 
now, I must go and tell Hester. I don’t under- 
stand how that child came to be so foolishly 
sentimental. She has taken the notion that she 
cannot be happy anywhere without me. Utter 
nonsense, of course! I’ve tried to train her to 
believe that one’s happiness never depends on 
another. ’ ’ 

She went her way, leaving her friend smiling 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


15 


at the speech. When Dehby had gone, Miss 
Eichards spoke aloud: “Dehby, Dehby Alden, 
how fearfully blind you are about yourself and 
your girl ! How could Hester ever think other 
than she does when every bit of happiness in 
the child’s life has emanated from you. Hes- 
ter has sound judgment for one of her years, 
and she knows how much she owes to you.” 

But Hester did not know the full amount of 
her debt to her foster aunt nor did Miss 
Eichards ; for Debby kept her own secret in re- 
gard to Hester’s parentage and no one but 
herself knew the fearful weight it was upon 
her. 


CHAPTER II 


T hursday morning, Miss Richards and 
Debby Alden started for Lockport. This 
was a small city and the county seat. Its sit- 
uation made it a pleasant place to spend the 
summer and the population increased and 
diminished with the change of seasons. 

The town lay between two ridges of high 
mountains. On one side the river flowed ; on 
the opposite side Beech Creek, the conjunction 
of the streams being at the eastern edge of town. 
On the brow of the lower hills were the summer 
homes of the city folk. There were acres of 
lawn and grove with natural ravines through 
which ran little streams and over whose banks 
the laurels grew in wild profusion. Back of 
these hills, the moimtains towered like great 
green giants. On foggy days, their peaks were 
hidden in clouds. They were awe-inspiring, 
for fog-covered brows spoke of mysteries be- 
16 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 17 

yond the comprehension of those who dwelt 
below. 

The valley grew narrow toward the western 
end. Here, nestled close between hills, was 
Dickinson Seminary, one of the most exclusive 
and rigidly-disciplined schools of the State. 
The campus and grove beyond were extensive. 
Beech Creek lay to the south and was used for 
bathing and boating and skating in their sea- 
sons. It was a deep, narrow stream. Being 
fed only by a few short mountain brooks, it 
was little affected by floods. 

To the north lay the river. It was serene 
and powerful, except when its waters were 
swollen. Then it made its way over the banks 
and encroached upon the campus. The sem- 
inary folk were pleased than otherwise at this, 
for on the river-soaked campus edge the wil- 
lows and water birches thrived, and made a 
beautiful protection for the campus. The river 
was at a distance from the building; yet at 
flood time on a quiet night as the girls lay in 
bed listening, they could hear the noise of its 
waters. 

Debby Alden and Miss Richards reached 


18 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Lockport just at noon Thursday, Debby’s 
first thought was of Hester and her accom- 
modations at school. She visited the seminary, 
attended to matters there, and returned to the 
city. The expenses connected with Hester’s 
education would not be light, and Debhy knew 
that she would he compelled eventually to use 
the little money which her father had put by 
for a rainy day ; the interest of which had met 
her living expenses. The woman looked for- 
ward and saw the time when her money would 
be gone. But, strange to say, contrary as her 
present mode of action was to all her inherit- 
ance and previous training, she anticipated 
no day when she would be reduced to poverty. 
She calculated closely, knowing almost to a 
dime what the three following years would cost 
her and Hester. 

By that time, perhaps, Hester would be pre- 
pared for some life-work and as for Debby — . 
She smiled grimly when she thought of com- 
ing to a place where she could not take care 
of herself, “It’s not the Alden way to get 
stuck,” she repeated to herself. 

She mentally reviewed all these conditions 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


19 


before she set out with Miss Richards in search 
of a flat suited to their needs. In her look 
into the future, Debby believed herself able to 
see her way clear for three full years. 

“And then, if the worst conies to the worst, 
I can sell the timber land. It’s never brought 
in anything.” 

She put this last thought into words. “Does 
that mean that you are pressed for money, 
Debby?” 

“Not yet; but I may be before three years 
are gone, and Hester is through with school. 
I can see my way clear for three years.” 

“You are fortunate indeed if that be so. A 
score of things may happen that you know 
nothing of now. I have learned to anticipate 
neither joy nor sorrow but to take each day as 
it comes.” 

“But surely one must look ahead. Money 
matters do not take care of themselves. Hes- 
ter’s schooling will cost me almost every cent 
of my ready money. I’ll have only my little 
place and the timber tracts beyond.” 

“You are not scattering your money in send- 
ing Hester to school, Debby. You are placing 


20 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


it where it will draw the greatest interest. 
Someti m e you’ll draw a big dividend.” She 
smiled reassuringly. 

“I hope so; but I wasn’t thinking of that 
now. All I want is to have Hester prepared 
for some work — to take care of herself and be 
a happy useful woman when I’m gone.” 

“Meanwhile, we’ll stop in here and look at 
this little place. I think, Debby, you and I will 
never be content to shut ourselves up in little 
boxes on a second or third floor.” 

“No, I want room to breathe and some place 
outside where I can set my foot on the soil. 
I’m not one who likes the click of my own heels 
on the pavement. There’s something about 
putting your feet on the earth that makes you 
feel that you belong.” 

The place into which they now turned was 
a little cottage at the extreme east of town near 
the conjunction of creek and river, yet high on 
the brow of a hill. It was a simple little place, 
weather-beaten and faded; but a strip of sod 
ran about the front and side. The little low 
porch was shaded with a Virginia creeper, and 
an old gnarled tree at the corner leaned over 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 21 

the roof as though about to rest itself against 
it. 

Its being at the extreme end of town from 
the seminary was to Debby Alden the one thing 
against it. 

“If we were at the west end, Hester could 
slip in each day. The pupils are allowed an 
hour ‘off campus’ you know.” 

“And she would come to you with every 
thought that troubled her. You would be bear- 
ing her childish burdens just as you have al- 
ways done. If you live where Hester can talk 
with you each day, she will lose the greatest 
benefit a year in school can give her.” 

“I think you are right,” said Debby Alden. 

“I like the house. I’m used to low ceilings 
and big porches and vines. I’m satisfied with 
it if you are; and we’ll have Hester home but 
once a month.” 

It was best for Hester to be away and to 
learn to depend upon herself. That fact 
settled matters for Debby Alden. If it were 
good for Hester, then it should be done and 
Debby Alden would give no thought to herself 
in this matter. 


22 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Miss Richards was pleased with the house 
and the two friends made arrangements with 
the care-taker to have it ready for them a few 
days before the opening of school. There were 
papering and painting to be done. Had it been 
within her own home, Debby Alden would 
have done the work herself. Every bit of wood- 
work in her own home had been done over with 
her own brush, and her paper-hanging had won 
the admiration of the country-side. 

The next in the course of events was select- 
ing the articles of furniture which might be 
spared from home. Debby had no idea of dis- 
mantling her old home. The house had been 
built and furnished for a large family. There 
were furnished bedrooms which Debby and Hes- 
ter never entered except at cleaning time; be- 
low there were the old-fashioned parlor, the 
living-room with its air of comfort, the dining- 
room, kitchen and what in that locality was 
termed the shanty-kitchen. This last was a 
great room between the woodshed and kitchen 
proper. It was provided with every article 
for laundry use, and during the canning season 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 23 

was the scene of most of the household activi- 
ties. 

Since the early spring days when going 
away to school had first been mentioned, Hes- 
ter had viewed the event with dread. She 
knew nothing of meeting strangers and im- 
agined there could be nothing pleasant about 
it. During the summer while Debby had talked 
and planned, Hester had shown little interest 
and had never of herself, brought up the sub- 
ject. But since she had influenced her Aunt 
Debby to go to the city with her, she was al- 
most satisfied to go. Her joy would have been 
unbounded had it been possible for Debby to 
be with her within the school. That could not 
be. Hester was wise enough to know that. 
There was one other course that could be fol- 
lowed, however. She could live in town with 
Aunt Debby and Miss Richards and be but a 
parlor student at the seminary. To Hester’s 
mind, this would be a very satisfactory ar- 
rangement, and she meant to bring it to pass. 
Having been successful in persuading her Aunt 
Debby to live in town, Hester was confident 


24 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


that it would be no difficult matter to persuade 
her to this second course. Hester was natu- 
rally a diplomat. There was nothing deceptive 
about her; but, young as she was, she intui- 
tively knew that some times are ripe and some 
are not for discussion. The time propitious 
for bringing up the question of her being but a 
parlor student was not until Debby and Miss 
Richards were established in their little cot- 
tage at the east end of Lockport. 

Satisfied that she could bring matters to pass 
in the fashion she desired, Hester grew en- 
thusiastic over the preparation for quitting the 
old home. There was much to be done in spite 
of the fact that Debby was never “slack” in 
the ways of her household. Every cupboard 
and closet was gone over. Bed clothes were 
aired and laid away where neither mice, rust, 
nor mildew could touch them. China and silver 
were sorted and again sorted before Debby was 
able to decide what pieces were best to take 
and what best to leave. The flowers were to be 
potted and put away to keep for spring plant- 
ing. When it came to this, Debby began to 
realize what leaving home meant. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


25 


“I can take the spotted-leaved geranium,” 
she said to Hester while they were making the 
rounds of the garden. “I always do pot that 
for a house-plant. I suppose it will grow as 
well at Lockport as here, if I see that it is 
attended to. Fortunately for plants, they have 
no feelings.” 

The words showed sentiment enough, but the 
tones of Debby’s voice made them seem harsh 
and unfeeling. Hester was not deceived. 
Debby Alden came from a race who had for 
generations looked upon the expression of love 
and sentiment as a weakness. Whenever 
Debby felt her emotions conquering her, she 
unconsciously resorted to the ways of her for- 
bears; she lashed herself into a semblance of 
sternness in an endeavor to conceal her real 
feelings. 

”I suppose I’ll not get a look at the asters 
when they bloom. It would be a shame to let 
them die on the stalk without a soul pulling 
one. I think I’ll ask Kate Bowerman to see 
to them. She might pack up a few and send 
to me. I’m curious to see how that new royal 
purple turns out. I’ve been suspicious all sum- 


26 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


mer that it would turn out a scrub. It looks 
like a scrub.” 

She was bending over the plants growing 
along the fence which divided her yard-proper 
from the garden and wood-yards beyond. 
Debby was proud of her collection of asters 
which were of every variety known throughout 
the country. 

“They certainly are scrubs,” she repeated 
as she bent for a closer inspection. 

“How do you know, Aimt Debby? To me, 
they look like the other plants.” 

“I just know,” said Debby. “I don’t know 
how I know, but I just do. Plants show their 
breed just like people and animals. I’ve no 
need when I look at old Jim Ramsey’s horse 
to be told it’s mighty common stock. Yes; it 
has the same number of legs and hoofs and its 
eyes are in the right place, but it isn’t a 
thoroughbred. Anyone can see that at a 
glance. It is just the same with plants. 
There’s a wide ditference. Though I suppose 
it is only ones who work about them and love 
them that see the difference. And with people ! 
Some people are born common stock and stay 


HESTEE’S COUNTEBPAET 


27 


common stock all their lives, even if they’ve 
lived in mansions and hold a dozen diplomas.” 

She paused suddenly. “Run and get some 
more crocks, Hester,” she added. Debhy was 
annoyed at herself in talking of family in the 
child’s presence. With Debhy ’s knowledge of 
Hester’s parentage, it was as though she 
had thrown a taunt in the child’s face. When 
Hester returned, bearing in her arms the two, 
large flower-pots, Debhy made a point of show- 
ing her unusual consideration, asking her 
opinion as to the best flowers to be potted and 
whether she did not wish a plant for her win- 
dow in school. 

Prom the beginning of these preparations, 
one duty had been firmly fixed in Debby’s mind. 
It was not a pleasant one, yet she did not mean 
to shirk it; but she did put it off to the very 
last morning when she and Hester had brought 
down the trunks and were preparing to pack 
their own personal belongings. 

“There are some things in the attic, Hester, 
which rightfully belong to you. I’ve never 
mentioned them to you before, because you 
were yet such a child. But now you are leav- 


28 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


ing and Providence alone knows what may be 
in store for us. I may not come back. Now, 
don’t begin to cry. I expect to live a good 
many years yet; but there’s no telling. I be- 
lieve in doing what Grandmother Alden always 
said, ‘Hope for the best, but be prepared for 
the worst.’ 

“If anything should happen to me, it is only 
fair that you should have what is yours by 
rights. Just let your packing go this morn- 
ing. We’ll have time to finish this afternoon 
and not be rushed. I want you to go with me 
and look over the clothes that were yours and 
your mother’s. 

“I laid your mother out in the best things 
I could buy; and I kept every stitch she wore 
when the accident befell her. Somewhere or 
sometime, some of her friends will appear and 
they may be able to recognize these clothes.” 

Debby lead the way to the attic, climbing up 
the narrow dark stairway which lead from the 
kitchen bedroom and Hester followed at her 
heels. 

The attic was low and narrow. Except in 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


29 


the middle, one conld not walk without stoop- 
ing to escape the rafters. Along one side was 
a long row of boxes and trunks in which the 
Aldens, for generations, had kept their heir- 
looms. So far as money value was considered, 
there was nothing here worth while. A sur- 
veyor’s compass and staff, a spinning wheel; 
old blue dishes covered with hair-like lines. 
There was no real lace, and there were no hand- 
some gowns. Nevertheless, they meant much 
to Debby Alden. They were family to her. 

A little low trunk was at the extreme end of 
the attic. It was to this that Debby directed 
her steps. 

“Everything in this trunk belongs to you, 
Hester. When I packed it away, I put a card 
inside so that you might know that they were 
your mother’s. There’s nothing at all of value. 
Sit down here and we ’ll go over them. ’ ’ 

She knelt before the trunk and opened it. 
Hester, obedient to Miss Debby ’s wishes, sat 
down on the floor near the window while the 
woman took out each article and passed it to 
her companion. 


30 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“This is the dress your mother wore. I 
thought from the material that she must have 
been well-to-do. She had a gentle, nice way 
of speaking. She looked like a woman who 
had never worked hard and was used to having 
things comfortable. That’s why I can’t un- 
derstand how she could disappear and no one 
search for her. We sent notices to all the 
papers for miles about.” 

Debby Alden paused. She could not justify 
herself even in her own thoughts. By with- 
holding what she knew of Hester’s parentage, 
the newspaper accounts of the death of the 
French woman, had been misleading. This 
was one act of her life that gave her no satis- 
faction in thinking over. She put it from her 
mind and in nervous haste, passed the other 
articles of clothing to Hester. 

“I’ve saved even her shoes. You see what a 
little foot she had. Your mother was a very 
pretty woman, Hester. Of course, I saw her 
only that hour at dinner when she sat in the 
kitchen. She had dark eyes and hair and a 
plump, round figure. You look like her, only 
there is a difference. Your eyes are dark but 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


31 


they don’t look as your mother’s did, and your 
mouth and expression are not as I remember 
hers to be.” 

Hester made no comment as she looked over 
the clothes. She was not at all moved by the 
sight of these things. She was sixteen, and 
had come to the place where she was able to 
understand much that Debby did not tell her. 

She knew that something lay back of all this. 
Why had none of these people come for her? 
What were they that they would leave a little 
child in the world without ever making an 
effort to find her? They could not have been 
fine people. Hester was confident of that. 
She had picked up Debby ’s word and mentally 
set down the people from which she had sprung 
as “poor stock.” 

“If I ever am anything at all, it will be be- 
cause of Aunt Debby ’s training,” she con- 
cluded as the last article of her mother’s 
clothes lay in her hands. 

“It seems strange that they never came for 
you. ’ ’ 

“I’m glad they didn’t,” responded Hester. 
Her pride was in arms. If her own people 


32 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


cared so little for her, she would never grieve 
for them. 

“I am glad — very glad that they didn’t,” 
she repeated. “I belong to you. I’d rather 
be your girl than anyone’s else and I couldn’t 
be that if they had taken me away when I was 
a baby.” 

According to tradition, Hester’s sentiment 
was not at all proper. One should cherish 
one’s family above all else. 

“It isn’t right to say such things, Hester. 
Of course, you and I are very near to each 
other ; but you cannot feel toward me as though 
I was your mother.” 

“Of course not. I feel a great deal more.” 
She arose to her feet, dropping on the floor, 
the articles of clothing which had been in her 
lap. “Why, Aunt Debby, I’d treasure an old 
shoe-lace of yours more than those things.” 
She pointed to the heap of clothes on the floor. 

Debby meant to be firm. She had intended 
from the first that Hester should be rigidly 
disciplined. She believed in “the speak- when- 
spoken-to” child. But there are some argu- 
ments that cannot be questioned. She wanted 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


33 


Hester to love her above anyone else. She 
could not chide her for doing that. Debhy’s 
discipline went to the winds. 

“How very foolish you talk, Hester!” she 
said reprovingly; hut she looked up at the girl 
with such a tender light in her eyes, that Hes- 
ter laughed aloud. 

“But you like my foolishness. Aunt Debby. 
I know you do.” She was down beside Debby 
Alden with her hand laid caressingly on the 
woman’s arm. 

“Now, Hester, you are — ” 

“But you like me to be foolish. You know 
you do. Aunt Debby.” 

“I surely do not — ” 

Hester laughed again. Aunt Debby was 
blushing like a young school-girl. 

“You cannot say that you do not like it,” 
cried Hester. “You turn the question every 
time and do not answer directly.” 

“We’ll finish this work and go back to our 
packing,” was the firm rejoinder. “Your little 
baby-clothes are here. Your mother must have 
been a fine needle-woman, for the rolled hems 
and hemstitching are perfect.” 


34 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


The little dresses and petticoats were yellow 
with age. There was no distinguishing mark 
about them. They were of fine sheer linen, and 
exquisitely made. But thousands of babies 
over the land might have worn just such gar- 
ments. 

“You had a little handkerchief about your 
neck like a bib,” continued Debby. “This is 
it. It was pinned down in front with an odd 
pin. It’s rather peculiar and not worth much 
as far as money goes.” 

She handed the pin to Hester. It was of 
yellow metal — ^gold, perhaps — of oval shape 
and about the size of a dime. Inside the outer 
gold edge was woven a narrow strand of hair, 
and within this was imbedded a peculiar yellow 
stone. 

“Isn’t it pretty!” cried Hester. She held it 
in her hands and examined it eagerly. It was 
the first interest she had evinced in anything 
which belonged to that time before she entered 
the Alden home. 

“I fancy it isn’t gold,” continued Debby A1-- 
den. “I never knew gold to have that peculiar 
tinge. It was that way when I unpinned it 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


35 


from your bib. I tried to brighten it a little, 
but I couldn’t. It looks now just as it did 
when I laid it away. That stone, of course, is 
nothing more than a bit of yellow glass of 
small value.” 

“Yes,” said Hester slowly. Her eyes were 
fixed upon the queer stone. “I never saw a 
bit of glass look so. When I hold it one way, 
it looks like a spark of fire. It looks as deep 
as a well, when you look directly into the 
center. ’ ’ 

“Cut glass,” said Debby. “All cut glass re- 
flects light like that.” 

Cut glass or something more, it appealed to 
Hester. Turning it about in her hand, she ex- 
amined it critically. 

“There’s a little hook here at the end,” said 
Hester. “Did you notice that. Aunt Debby?” 
Debby took the pin in her hand to examine it. 
“I didn’t notice that before. It has been an 
old fashioned earring made into a pin. Ear- 
rings used to be fashionable. No lady ever 
dressed without them, I’ve heard my mother 
say. The breast-pin that I wear with my gray 
silk was made from an earring of Grand- 


36 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


motlier Palmer’s. Dear, dear, I wonder who 
wore these.” 

“I’m going to keep this and wear it. Aunt 
Debby. ’ ’ 

“I don’t believe I would, Hester. Someone 
might ask you where you got it.” 

“And I shall tell them it was my mother’s, 
and that I wore it when I was a little baby. 
That is true. Isn’t it. Aunt Debby?” 

“You might lose it — ” Debby began. 

“If I do, no one will care except me. I’d 
dearly love to have it. Aunt Debby. Isn’t it 
my own to do with as I please?” 

There was no argument to bring against 
this, and Debby remained silent. Hester, 
pleased with the bauble, pinned it on her dress 
and then set about replacing the other articles 
in the trunk. 

The pin might be cut glass or something 
better. Neither Debby nor Hester knew, nor 
could they know that it would bring to Hester 
loss of friends and — but neither the girl or 
woman could anticipate that. At present, all 
they could do was to admire the glitter of the 
stone and watch the changing lights play upon 
it. 


CHAPTER III 


I T was the last week in August when Debby 
Alden and Miss Richards moved into the 
cottage at the east end of Lockport. The semi- 
nary was not to open until a week later and 
Hester was with her friends, assisting in every 
way she could in putting the place to rights. 

Thursday evening, the house was immacu- 
late. There was neither fad nor fancy about 
its equipment. Debhy had brought down some 
great four-posters, old blue china, and solid 
silver. Miss Richards had several black wal- 
nut armchairs that were old enough to have 
been Mayflower Pilgrims, hut which were not. 
There was a rug which Miss Richards had 
picked up in Europe twenty years before and 
a gay screen which Lieutenant Richards had 
bought a century before in an old junk shop in 
China. 

“We look as though we had stepped from a 
previous century,” said Miss Richards. “We 
haven’t a modem article about us — ” She 
37 


38 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


glanced toward Hester and then added — “ex- 
cept Hester.” 

“You really need me,” responded the girl. 
“I’m the only piece of twentieth-century fur- 
niture you and auntie have. I think I shall re- 
main with you. I could study just as well here 
as shut up in that old stone building. I really 
think I could get my lessons better.” 

“I think so, too,” said Miss Richards, “that 
is if you refer but to book lessons.” 

“What other kind could there be?” 

“The kind that people teach you. They are 
all sorts of lessons, as varied in kind as there 
are people. The girls at Dickinson will teach 
you many a good lesson.” 

“I should think you and Aunt Debby could 
do it better. I’ve quite made up my mind to 
be but a parlor student.” 

“There are some things Debby and I cannot 
teach you. We love you too much to give you 
the very lessons which we know would prove 
best for you. The girls at school will do that 
for us.” 

“I do not always quite understand,” said 
Hester. “Mr. Sanderson used to declare that 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


39 


I was neither philosophical nor mathematical. 
I do not see deeply into matters. I do know, 
though, which I like. Just now there is noth- 
ing I should like better than being at home 
with you and Aunt Debby, and I have quite 
made up my mind to that.” 

“You had better unmake it, Hester,” said 
Debby who, coming into the house at that mo- 
ment, had overheard their words. 

“You will remain at the seminary even over 
Saturday and Sunday, except once each month. 
Miss Weldon does not approve of pupils com- 
ing back and forth. I think she is quite right. 
This flitting about gives a most unsettled feel- 
ing. You will not know where you belong, and 
we’ll have none of it for you.” 

Hester sighed and turned aside. She was 
disappointed, only for the time. Had she been 
Debby Alden’s own daughter, she could not 
have partaken more strongly of some of 
Debby ’s characteristics. When Hester once 
made up her mind, she was quite “set.” She 
had no thought of giving up her plans. 

“About the time that I’m ready to leave 
them, they’ll both realize how much they’ll miss 


40 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


me. Then I’ll be able to persuade Aunt Debby 
to allow me to board at borne.” 

Confident in her power of persuasion, Hes- 
ter went about her work as happy as though 
the matter bad been adjusted to her satisfac- 
tion. 

There was yet some shopping to be done be- 
fore Hester’s outfit would be complete. Miss 
Debby bad purposely delayed buying until she 
came to Lockport where she believed a better 
selection might be made. 

Miss Richards had friends in town and bad 
gone off to spend the day with them. After 
the household duties bad been disposed of, 
Debby and Hester set out on their shopping 
expedition. 

The morning was delightful and Debby, who 
took pleasure in the exercise of her muscles, 
decided to walk. With the exception of the 
summer homes which lay on the outskirts, 
Lockport was compact. The shopping district 
lay within a few squares. The store windows 
were tastefully decorated and Hester to whom 
all this was new, lingered to gaze and comment. 

“I never knew hats could be so pretty. Did 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


41 


you, Aunt Debby? Wby tbe window is a 
dream — a poem!” Sbe paused to study tbe 
millinery display. 

Sbe bad grown tall. Her sbirt-waist suit of 
white linen was dainty and simple. Sbe bad 
pushed back her bat. When sbe was interested 
in anything, sbe was wholly unconscious of 
herself and what was going on about her. 
Now with bright eyes, and flushed cheeks, sbe 
stood before tbe window. She was a very 
pleasing sight to passers-by. More than one 
person stopped for a backward glance and 
smiled, well pleased, and passed on. Someone 
in particular found her pleasing. A young 
man hurrying from the store adjoining, paused 
a moment to look at Hester. Her face was in 
profile. All he could see was the cheek and 
chin, the tall, slender figure and the long braid 
of hair. 

He paused but a moment. Then he smiled 
with delight and advancing, came up beside 
her. “Hello, honey. I did not know you were 
in town. Are you picking your fall chapeau?” 

Hester was startled. She looked about her. 
Debby Alden had moved on and unconscious 


42 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


of what was taking place, was studying the dis- 
play in windows several yards distant. 

At Hester’s alarm, a flush came to the young 
man’s face. 

“I humbly crave your pardon,” he said, 
lifting his hat. “I mistook you for my cousin 
Helen. Believe me, I regret exceedingly — ” 

Debby Alden had turned at this moment. 
She came hurrying up. Hester had been 
alarmed and turned to lay her hand on Debby ’s 
arm. 

“He thought I was his cousin,” said Hester. 

Debby turned toward the young man who 
would have explained had she allowed him to 
do so; but she gave him such a glance that 
words failed him. 

“Come, Hester, an apology is merely an in- 
sult.” Hester walked meekly along. She was 
not able to grasp the situation. 

“He said he thought I was his cousin. Aunt 
Debby. He seemed so sorry — ” 

“Nonsense. He had no idea that you were 
his cousin or anyone else that he knew. He 
is just a smart, ill-bred young man, Hester, 
who, thinking you a stranger and not used to 


HESTEB’S COUNTEBPART 43 

the ways of a city, did what he could to annoy 
you. Never pay any attention to such folk, 
Hester. Hurry away from them as fast as 
you can. They are never desirable people to 
know.” 

“But he looked very nice. Aunt Dehhy. Did 
you notice his eyes ? I liked the way he spoke. 
I really do believe that he thought that I was 
his cousin.” 

“It matters little what you think on such 
matters. Hereafter never give anyone time to 
apologize for speaking to you.” 

Smith and Winter’s was the largest store in 
Lockport. It was on Pine, between Third and 
Fourth Streets. It was here that Dehhy Al- 
den intended making her purchases. 

“Do you think you would like a tan jacket 
better than a blue one, Hester?” she asked as 
the floor-walker was conducting them toward 
the coat department. 

“I think so. Auntie. But you select what 
you think is best.” 

Dehhy made known her wants to the sales- 
woman. Jackets of tan and blue, of many 
sizes and shades were brought forth and tried 


44 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


on Hester. They were interrupted in their 
selection, by one of the girls from the altera- 
tion department, claiming the attention of the 
clerk. 

“Miss Herman, did Mrs. Vail say when she 
wished her dress?” 

“It was to be sent out to-morrow, but she 
telephoned last evening saying that she was 
called away. We are to send the dress on. 
She may not come back here. Her cottage 
will close this week.” 

“That’s odd. She promised to come back 
for another fitting.” 

“She often does that; but she’s not erratic. 
She always has a reason for going off in that 
way. When you get to know her as I do, you 
will think she’s the sweetest woman in the 
world.” 

“I wasn’t thinking of that — ^nor did I mean 
to criticise her. I wanted to know whether or 
not I should finish her work without another 
fitting.” 

“No, I’d wait.” The clerk who had been 
addressed as Miss Herman turned to Debby 
Alden and waited her orders. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


45 


“Hester thinks the tan will please her best,” 
said Debby. “If you can send it out to this 
address,” she gave the woman her card. Miss 
Herman read it and smiled. “I have mistaken 
you all along for someone else. I thought you 
were Mrs. Loraine. I never met her, but her 
daughter is a seminary student here and often 
comes into my department. I was sure that 
this young lady was a younger sister of Helen 
Loraine ’s.” 

“No, we are not related. I know nothing 
of the people,” said Debby stiffly. 

“They are a fine family,” said the clerk. 
“We are always pleased to serve them.” 

Hester would have spoken had not Debby si- 
lenced her with a look. 

“Auntie, did you not hear that name?” she 
said as they moved away. “Helen Loraine. 
Isn’t that the name of the girl who is to room 
with me, and that young man said his Cousin 
Helen.” 

“That young man’s cousin exists only in 
his mind, and as your roommate — she may be 
a wholly different person. The name Loraine 
is common throughout this section.” 


46 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“But, Aunt Debby, the clerk thought I looked 
like—” 

“Nonsense. Some people never see further 
than their own nose. If the clerk noticed that 
your hair and eyes were black, she decided that 
you looked like every one else she knew who 
had the same coloring. I fancy she said that 
but to make conversation.” 

The following day when Debby Alden sug- 
gested that they make ready to go to the semi- 
nary, Hester brought up again the question of 
remaining at home. Debby listened patiently 
until the girl had expressed herself and had 
presented every argument in favor of attend- 
ing the seminary for recitations merely. When 
Hester had finished, Debby Alden said quietly : 
“Please put on your hat and gloves, Hester. 
We must take the next car if I wish to be back 
home in time to get supper.” 

Hester felt that the decision was final and 
nothing could be gained by argument. Leav- 
ing the room, she soon returned with hat and 
gloves. These last articles she swung in her 
hands as they went down the walk. 

“Hester, when at home we were a little lax 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


47 


about certain customs. Here in Lockport and 
among strangers, we must be more careful. 
Put on your gloves before we leave the bouse. 
My mother taught me that a lady must finish 
her toilet before she leaves her home.” 

She waited until Hester had put on and 
buttoned the gloves. “It seems a trifle,” con- 
tinued Debby, “but it is trifles which mark the 
difference between a cultivated and an uncul- 
tivated woman.” 

When the street car took siding at Williams 
Street to give right of way to the east-bound 
car, a carriage drew up close to the curb. The 
coachman was in livery. Hester noticed that 
at once, for at her home no distinction in dress 
was made between the man who drove and he 
who employed him. 

Servants in livery were not new to Debby 
Alden. Her attention was attracted to the 
sweet-faced woman in the carriage. This 
woman who was richly gowned was scarcely 
older than Debby herself; but her hair was 
white. There was some quality in the face 
which attracted and held. Perhaps it was the 
power of self-control. The power to smile 


/ 


48 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


sweetly when the person had cause only for 
tears. This woman was bending from the car- 
riage in conversation with a man and woman 
on the sidewalk. As the car moved, the nerv- 
ous horses jerked suddenly. The woman in 
the carriage turned her head and met Debby 
Alden’s direct glance. Just for a moment, 
these two women looked into each other’s eyes. 
Then the car moved on; the carriage bowled 
along. With each woman an impression of the 
unusual lingered. 

Debby really was troubled. The face of the 
strange woman was as the face of a half-for- 
gotten friend. 

‘ ‘ That woman in the carriage made me think 
of someone,” she said to Hester. “But I can- 
not think who. There was something about the 
turn of her head and the way she looked up at 
me that made me think I have met her some- 
where. ” 

“I did not see her,” said Hester. “I was 
looking at the coachman. I hope that some 
day I may have matched horses and a man in 
livery.” Then she turned toward Debby Al- 
den. “Hasn’t this been a peculiar day. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


49 


Auntie. Every one thinks I am someone else, 
and you think every one is some one you 
know.” 

“Every one? You are putting it a trifle too 
strong, Hester. I have come in contact with a 
great many people, but I remember but one 
who made me think of someone else. You ex- 
aggerate, Hester.” 

“I’d really rather call it hyperbole,” said 
Hester. “You are a classical scholar when 
you use hyperbole and a ‘fibber’ when you ex- 
aggerate.” 

Dehby smiled at the sally. She and Hester 
were good friends, with a perfect understand- 
ing between them. 

“Put your effects toward the classical into 
working order. I catch a glimpse of the semi- 
nary walls, Hester.” 

This was the first glimpse Hester had of her 
new home. There was a long stretch of grass, 
old trees and then the low, long, gray wall of 
stone. The campus crossed the end of the 
street. It seemed to the occupants of the car 
that they would be carried across the campus 
and through the building. But the line turned 


50 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


suddenly and ran along the edge of the 
grounds. 

“We get otf here, Hester,” said Dehby lead- 
ing the way out. 

Hester’s gay spirits ebbed. Silently, she 
followed Dehby Alden to the entrance. The 
oflfice-hoy swung open the great hall door for 
them to enter and escorted them down the long 
hall to the oflSce. 

Hester’s eyes grew big. She had not 
dreamed that any place could be as beautiful 
as this. Her feet sank in the soft, thick car- 
pet. She followed Miss Dehby ’s footsteps as 
silent as a mouse. 

Doctor Weldon was in her private office. Into 
this, Marshall conducted the callers. Hester 
shook hands in silence, and then sank into the 
nearest chair. For the first time in her life, 
her tongue refused to work as it should. It 
felt now as though it were glued to the roof 
of her mouth. She listened to the conversa- 
tion between Doctor Weldon and Dehby, hut 
was not able to grasp what it meant. 

Then Dehby arose to depart. Marshall was 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


51 


sent in search of a hall-girl to conduct Miss 
Hester Palmer Alden to Boom Sixty-two. 
Then Hester realized that she and Debby must 
part. 

“I’ll go with you to the door, Aunt Debby,” 
she said. No further word was said until 
they stood on the steps and Debby turned for 
a farewell embrace. The tears were very close 
to Hester’s eyes; hut she forced them back, 
determined that she would not vex her Aunt 
Debby by a show of feeling. 

Debby put her arms about Hester, kissed her 
warmly and said, “Be a good girl, Hester and 
do as the teachers tell you.” 

Such had been her words ten years before 
when she had taken her into the primary grade 
and left her in Miss Carns’s care. Hester an- 
swered meekly now as then, “Yes, Aunt 
Debby.” 

Debby went down the winding path. Once 
she glanced hack. Hester was standing erect 
with her head thrown proudly hack. It was 
as though she were declaring, “You may kill 
me, hut I shall not cry.” 


52 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


The haughty proud turn of the head ! Where 
had Debby seen that before? The experiences 
of the day rushed over her like a flood. Hes- 
ter’s poise and turn of the head were like that 
of the sweet-faced woman in the carriage. 


CHAPTER IV 


M ISS LOEAINE, so the hall-teacher in- 
formed Hester, would he her roommate. 
Miss Loraine, however, was not at the semi- 
nary at present. She had come the previous 
day and attended to business matters, put her 
room in order and had then gone out to the 
home of her aunt who lived at a country place 
called Valehurst. 

This information was given to Hester while 
she was being conducted to her room. The 
seminary and living-rooms were under one 
roof. The main building was a great rectan- 
gular block, containing offices, class rooms, 
dining-hall and chapel. From this extended 
an east dormitory, and one on the west. 
Each suite of rooms consisted of a bedroom 
and a small study or sitting-room. This was 
occupied by two students. Number Sixty-two 
which Hester was to occupy with Helen Loraine 
was on the second floor just where the dor- 
53 


54 


HESTER’S COUNTEEPAET 


mitory joined the main building. It overlooked 
the front campus and was considered one of 
the most desirable rooms in the school. 

Hester, being new to the ways of boarding- 
school life did not realize how fortunate she 
was in securing so fine a location. Helen Lor- 
aine had been a seminary girl for two years 
and knew the “ropes.” The previous spring, 
she had put in an application for Number Six- 
ty-two. She had come down several days be- 
fore the opening of school to take possession, 
feeling sure that if she was once placed there, 
no misimderstanding would arise. There had 
been several instances at Dickinson, where 
girls had moved in their trunks and took pos- 
session before the rightful occupant of the room 
appeared. 

The hall-teacher escorted Hester to the door 
and then left her. She found that the sitting- 
room lacked the bareness of dormitory rooms. 
Helen had unpacked her trunk and converted 
it, by means of a gay cover and cushions into a 
cosy corner. The study table held a few books 
and a candle with a shade. Across one end of 
the room, gay ribbons had been stretched across 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


55 


the wall. These were filled with photographs. 
The second study table held a great number of 
posters. On top of these, Hester found a note 
addressed to herself. 

‘‘Hear Roommate-to-be: I have put up 
enough belongings to hold the fort until you 
arrive. I did not like to do more until you 
came. I was afraid you might not like my 
style of decoration. I shall be back within a 
day or so. Meanwhile make yourself comfort- 
able and do not get homesick. 

“Helen Vail Loraine.” 

Hester read the note several times. It was 
a thoughtful, kind act for Miss Loraine to 
leave the note. Hester was already experienc- 
ing the first tinge of homesickness; but she 
had no intention of giving way to her feelings. 
She could do just as Helen had done. She 
would keep so busy that she could not even 
think of Aunt Debby and Miss Richards sitting 
down together at their evening meal. 

She unpacked her trunk and put her clothes 
in order in the closet and drawers. Helen had 


56 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


rigidly observed the old time custom of the ball 
and had stretched a blue ribbon from hook to 
hook, this portioning off equal space for her- 
self and roommate. 

Hester heard the ten-minute bell ring, but 
being unused to the ways of school, did not 
know its meaning. She opened the door lead- 
ing from the sitting-room into the hall. She 
paused a moment to ascertain the reason for 
the bell’s ringing. A murmur of voices came 
from the several rooms below. They were 
beautifully modulated with the intonation of 
those who have been trained to speak carefully. 

“Really, I think you are mistaken, Marne. 
The Fraulein told me that Helen had gone to 
her aunt and would not return until Monday.” 

“I am not mistaken. Do you think that I 
do not know Helen Loraine when I roomed with 
her two terms?” This voice had in it a touch 
of petulant decision, as though the speaker 
was vexed because the responsibility of set- 
tling all pertinent matters devolved upon her. 

“I saw her come across the campus,” the 
speaker continued. “A lady was with her; but 
they went into the private office and remained 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


57 


ever so long. I would have waited had not 
Miss Burkham come along and informed me 
that a public hallway was not the proper place 
for a young lady.” 

Hester heard the words and felt the sudden 
touch of ironical humor in them; but she did 
not know of the smile which passed over the 
group in the room below ; neither did she know 
Miss Burkham. 

“I saw her,” a third voice took up the con- 
versation. It was a ringing, clear, happy voice 
as though the speaker had always lived in the 
sunshine, and her voice had partaken of its 
rippling notes. “I saw her when she crossed 
the campus, and was sure it was Helen. I was 
just about to run out and give her a hug — ■ 
Helen is the dearest girl in the world — ^when 
I saw I was mistaken. She isn’t nearly so 
tall as Helen and she doesn’t wear her hair in a 
bun as Helen does. She was an awfully sweet- 
looking thing, though, and looked for all the 
world like Helen.” 

“There’s a new girl in Sixty-two. She went 
in there.” The voice was deliberately low and 
steady. It was as though the owner had grown 


58 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


weary of life, but meant to live it down if sbe 
could. “Perhaps she may he Helen’s sister, 
who knows?” The tone of voice would have 
influenced a stranger to believe that being sis- 
ter to Helen Loraine, was a dire calamity. 

A murmur of amusement rippled over the 
group. “Sara Summerson, do arouse your- 
self. Life is worth living, and examinations 
, are months away.” 

“It will be all the same to me. It will be 
this term as it was last. I shall not have time 
to get out my lessons. When I wasn’t get- 
ting a drink for Erma, I was driving my room- 
mate in from the corridor and getting her down 
to work. When I thought I could get out my 
‘Unter Linden,’ Miss Laird would call me to 
button her waist. If I ever am principal of a 
seminary. I’ll have a law passed making it 
criminal for a teacher to wear a dress buttoned 
in the back. It’s bound to distract the atten- 
tion of the pupils from their books.” The 
slow, sad monotone never varied. The hearers 
laughed. A bell rang and there was a sound 
of a general uprising. 

Hester, conscious for the first time that she 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


59 


had been listening, turned into her room and 
closed the door. She heard the sound of pass- 
ing footsteps, the murmur of voices, and then 
all grew still. 

Alone in the dormitory! It sounded to her 
as fearful as alone in the desert. But Hester 
had not been trained by Debby Alden without 
effect. She had not the least intention of sit- 
ting down and giving way to her homesick feel- 
ing. The fear that she might give way, 
aroused her. She grew antagonistic with her- 
self. There was some unpacking yet to be done 
and Hester flew at it as though her life de- 
pended on having it done a certain time and in 
regular fashion. 

The little old-fashioned brooch which her 
Aunt Debby had given her was in a tiny box 
by itself. Hester took it out and examined it 
carefully. The little bit of cut glass in the 
center attracted her strongly. In the sunlight 
it gleamed like fire. In the shadow it showed 
a pale yellow tinge like the petal of a faded 
yellow rose. 

Hester had no desire to wear it. It was 
pleasant, however, to have something which 


60 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


belonged to one’s own people. The Alden 
borne was rich in bits of china, linen, and sil- 
verware which had been handed down from 
generation to generation; but this little circle 
of gold, the mat of hair and bit of glass, was 
all that Hester had of which she could say, 
“This belonged to my family.” 

Helen’s note had bade her make herself 
comfortable. Hester felt privileged to in- 
spect the posters, take up the books and to ex- 
amine the photographs. 

She was growing hungry. The dinner hour 
must have passed. Perhaps, the bells which 
she had heard ringing earlier in the evening 
were to call the students to the dining-room. 
Hester had not understood that, but it really 
made little difference. She would not have 
ventured alone into the dining-hall though she 
were starving. 

The hall-girl from the west dormitory had 
evidently forgotten her. It was the duty of 
hall-girls to play the part of hostess to new 
students. Eortimately for Hester, there were 
other persons more thoughtful than the hall- 
girls. 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


61 


Hester had reached the stage where a good 
healthy appetite would have looked with favor 
upon crackers and cheese, when a knock came 
at the door. She opened to admit a round- 
faced, dimple-cheeked girl of sixteen, bearing 
a tray in her hand. 

“I hope I am not intruding,” she said. It 
was the same slow droll voice which Hester 
had overheard an hour before in the room be- 
low. “I am Sara Summerson, one of last 
year’s girls. I did not know until after dinner 
was over that you were here, — a stranger and 
starving. The servants are in the dining-hall, 
so I asked Mrs. Hopkins if I might bring your 
dinner here.” 

“I am so glad!” cried Hester. “Will you 
come in?” 

The invitation was not necessary. The 
caller was evidently a lady of resources, despite 
the slowness of her speech and movement. 
She had entered, moved back the books from 
the nearest study table and had set down her 
tray. “I brought you some tea,” she said. 
“Will you not please sit down and eat while 
I fill your cup. We did have cocoa. I did not 


62 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


know wMcli you like best; but I did know that 
if one does not like cocoa, one cannot bear to 
taste it.” 

Hester took her place at the table. Her 
new acquaintance sat opposite. Hester studied 
her now and came to the conclusion that she 
could like Sara Summerson. She was of Hes- 
ter’s age and physique, but of wholly different 
coloring. Her eyes were gray and calm; 
while Hester’s were black and at times snap- 
ping. She wore a simple white gown with a 
Dutch neck. She was not at all pretty; but 
she was good to look at. There was a repose 
and calmness about her that had a good effect 
on Hester. Her droll slow smile gave an ex- 
pression of humor to her slightest word. 

While Hester was eating, the caller made 
no attempt to converse. When Hester had 
finished her meal, Sara looked across at her, 
viewed her slowly and serenely and said, “I 
saw you to-day when you came from the car. 
I thought you were Helen Loraine.” 

“I have heard that several times to-day,” 
said Hester. “Is Helen Loraine beautiful?” 
It was a guileless question and Hester saw no 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


63 


compliment to herself in the asking. Sara 
scanned her slowly, deliberately. “If she 
were, I should not tell you. I never spoil peo- 
ple by complimenting them — even though it 
be over someone’s else shoulder. No, she is 
not beautiful. She’s more than that. She’s 
distingue.” She smiled blandly at Hester. 

“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean. 
That word is new to me.” 

“It would not be if you could see it printed. 
It is no doubt, one of your most intimate words. 
I’ve given it the French pronunciation. Miss 
Webster declares my French is startling in its 
orginality. You wish- to know of Helen? 
She is one of those people that you need to 
glance at but once to know that she is some- 
thing. She is tall and fine-looking; but that 
is not all. She has an ‘air’ you know.” 

Yes; Hester did know. An “air” in this 
sense meant the same as Debby Alden’s 
“stock.” 

“And I look like her? I was mistaken to- 
day for her while in a store.” 

“You look much alike, yet there is a differ- 
ence. Are you related to her?” 


64 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


“No, indeed. I never heard the name nntil 
to-day.” 

The subject ended there. Sara sat for some 
time. She told Hester of the customs of the 
hall, the manner of calling and returning calls ; 
the conventions which were observed when one 
had a spread, and the social distinction be- 
tween that and a fudge party. Fudge-making 
was always informal, and often surreptitious. 
Anyone might be invited to it ; but a spread and 
chafing-dish party observed a difference. 

“It had been known,” Sara said, “in that 
very dormitory that freshmen — ^girls who had 
not been in school a month — ^had had the au- 
dacity to invite a senior to their parties. But 
they never did it a second time.” 

Thus having put Hester on the right track 
socially, Sara took up her tray and departed. 

“The first bell rings at nine forty-five,” so 
Sara had informed her. This gave the girls 
a half-hour to prepare for bed and for Bible 
reading. 

Hester looked at the time. It was fully an 
hour before the retiring bell would ring. She 
had a feeling that after the first night, she 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


65 


would not mind being alone. She felt like an 
alien now. Perhaps, she would soon become 
part. She hoped so at least ; for there is noth- 
ing quite as lonesome as being alone among 
many people. Sara had offered to escort her 
to breakfast and to introduce her to the other 
girls. Had Helen Loraine been in school, the 
courtesy would have been hers to fulfill. 

To sit idle was impossible to Hester. The 
little box in which she had placed her pin, lay 
on the table. Without thinking, she placed it 
in the corner of her wardrobe, where it fitted 
snugly. In the shadow, it was hardly distin- 
guishable from the woodwork. She put it 
safely away and then, perhaps because it was 
a new possession, straightway forgot about it 
for months. 

Helen’s photographs were many. The sem- 
inary girls had the habit of exchanging pic- 
tures each commencement. So it followed that 
students who had gone through their spring 
semesters, were well provided for in the line of 
pictures. Hester looked them over. There 
were girls and girls and yet more girls. Some 
wore evening dresses and hair in party style; 


66 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


others were in cap and gown. There were 
gymnasium costumes and bathing suits — all 
utilized for the picturing of girls. 

Among the hundred or more were but one 
or two which were not those of students. 
There was one, old and fingermarked. It was 
that of a mother and children. The mother 
was young and beautiful. A boy leaned 
against her knee and a baby nestled in her 
arms. The boy was a handsome, manly little, 
fellow; the baby was dimpled and smiling; its 
head was covered with soft dark curls, and its 
eyes were large and dark. 

“Isn’t she sweet?” said Hester to herself. 
“She looks as though she could eat those chil- 
dren up. She seems so fond of them. Mothers 
are always that way. Mrs. Bowerman looks at 
Mary as though she was the prettiest thing in 
the world and Mary is homely — just ordinarily 
homely, and Jane Orr’s mother — .” The 
thought was too much for Hester. Her lips 
quivered, her eyes filled with tears so that she 
could scarcely distinguish the features of the 
picture which she held in her hand. “It’s just 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


67 


a way that mothers have,” she said again. “I 
do wish I had had a mother ! ’ ’ 

Then, as though the thought were unjust to 
the woman who had taken a mother’s place 
to her, she added quickly. “But I wouldn’t 
give up Aunt Debby for any mother — ^not even 
Jane Orr’s.” 

She did not realize how long she sat with the 
picture in her hand, studying the mother and 
children. She was awakened from her reverie 
by the half-hour bell. She was relieved at the 
sound of it. Now she could sleep and forget 
that she was alone and under a strange roof. 

She was very tired and soon fell asleep. An 
hour passed and in a half-conscious way she 
was aware that the light was on in the sitting- 
room and someone was moving softly about 
as though not to disturb her. She was too far 
gone in slumber to realize where she was. She 
thought that she was back home and Aunt 
Debby had slipped in to see that she was prop- 
erly covered. Satisfied that this was so, she 
fell sound asleep. It was broad day when she 
was awakened by someone bending over her. 


68 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


She felt the touch of lips on her forehead and 
the sound of a sweet musical voice. 

“ Wake up, little roommate. The rising- 
hell rang long ago. You will miss breakfast.” 

Then as Hester opened her eyes wide, she 
saw bending over her, a tall, slender girl en- 
veloped in a soft kimona, and with her dark 
hair streaming like waves over her shoulders. 

Beautiful! Hester decided at that instant 
that she had never seen a sweeter face. 

“I slipped in last night so that I might not 
waken you. I am Helen Loraine. I hope we 
shall be good friends, little roommate.” 



— Page 68. 


“ I AM Helen Loraine 




CHAPTEE V 


FTEE a few days’ acquaintance with 



Helen Loraine, Hester understood what 
Sara meant by saying that Helen had an “air” 
about her. She was always friendly, hut never 
intimate or familiar. The sweep-women in the 
hall were accorded the same courtesy as a 
teacher. She was sympathetic without being 
gushing. She was just in her treatment of 
others, generous and kind, yet she never al- 
lowed herself to be imposed upon. With Hes- 
ter, she divided all things equally; neither giv- 
ing nor keeping a larger part. She was as 
just to herself as to others. She would have 
battled royally before she would have given up 
one of her rights. Yet no one imposed upon 
her; for there was that about her which in- 
stinctively fixed the boundary line. It was not 
what she did or said, hut what she was, which 
caused her to find favor among the students. 

During the first week, Helen and Hester 
spent their spare time in arranging .their 


69 


70 HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 

rooms. It was really marvelous what could 
be done with cretonne and dotted swiss. Hes- 
ter had come prepared to do her part in the 
furnishings. Debby Alden, acting upon Miss 
Richards’s suggestion, had selected for Hester, 
fancy covers, cushions and a few pictures. 

Hester had not realized the importance of 
the accessories until the “fixing up” fever was 
apparent. During the first week of school, the 
conversation of the entire dormitory was con- 
cerning the arrangement of their rooms. 
There were no calls made. The conventions 
of the hall frowned upon one student calling 
upon another until that other had time to put 
her rooms in livable condition. 

Working together, Helen and Hester soon 
grew friendly. Before the week had ended, 
Helen knew that Debby Alden was the most 
remarkable article in the aunt line that the age 
had produced. She knew also that Hester had 
neither sister nor brother; but she did not 
know that the name Alden had been given her 
by courtesy rather than by right, or that Hes- 
ter and the beloved Aunt Debby held no ties 
of blood in common. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


71 


On the other hand, Hester learned that Helen 
was an only child; that she had a cousin Rob- 
ert Vail who was almost as a brother to her; 
that Robert had neither brother nor sister, and 
that his mother, who was Helen’s Aunt Har- 
riet, loved Helen and kept her at the Vail home 
as much as possible. 

“You would like Aunt Harriet,” said Helen 
in one of the confidences. It was Friday even- 
ing. The study hour had been short. The 
girls in kimonas and with their hair in braids, 
sat in their sitting-room. As they talked, they 
gave satisfied admiring glances about the room. 

“Aunt Harriet is only forty, yet her hair is 
white. She had nervous trouble and brain 
fever that caused her to become gray; but in 
other ways she is like a girl. She is most un- 
selfish. The girls in school love her. She un- 
derstands what girls like and is always doing 
something nice for them. I cannot explain to 
you in what way she is so attractive. When 
you meet her, you’ll understand just how she 
is.” 

“I may never meet her,” said practical 
Hester. 


72 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


“You will if you remain at Dickinson. 
When she is at her home, she comes to see 
me very often. Her country home, Valehurst, 
is hack on the hills, about three miles from here. 
It is a charming place. You have noticed how 
the road gradually rises from Susquehanna 
Avenue. It ends in a little plateau and there 
Aunt Harriet’s home stands.” 

“Her country home? Doesn’t she always 
live there?” 

“No, uncle has business which keeps him in 
the city a great part of the time. He must be 
there during the winter. Generally, the family 
stay at Valehurst until the last of September. 
Then Aunt Harriet drives or motors in each 
week to see me. She likes her horses best, 
because they are alive. She is very fond of 
animals and was a fine horsewoman when she 
was younger. She always takes me for a ride, 
and best of all, takes my roommate with me.” 

“But she does not know me,” Hester was 
tremblingly expectant. At home, automobiles 
were rare, and Hester knew no more of them 
than the smell of the gasoline. To ride in an 
automobile would be a joy unspeakable. If it 


HESTEK’S COUNTERPAET 


73 


should chance that Mrs. Vail would take her, 
she would write and tell Jane Orr about it and 
describe the sensations that went with the ride. 

“But she will know you. She makes a point 
of knowing all my friends. I know just what 
she will say the instant she comes into this 
room. She has a proud way with her. She 
carries herself very straight and holds her head 
high.” Helen arose and moving toward the 
door, showed to Hester the grand manner of 
her Aunt Harriet. 

“ She will say,” continued Helen, “ ‘I am 
very glad to see you, Helen. I miss you very 
much. Have you everything you need for your 
room and your wardrobe? If you haven’t, 
make out a list and I shall see that you are 
provided for, and your roommate, dear. I 
hope you like her. I should like to meet her. ’ ’ ’ 

Helen came back to her easy chair. She 
laughed softly as she leaned back. “And then 
you’ll be brought in and her heart will warm 
to you. It always does to every girl she meets, 
and it will to you. Do you know what you will 
do, Hester Palmer Alden?” 

“No, about that time, I’ll be so embarrassed 


74 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


that I shall not be able to say a word. If your 
aunt is haughty and proud, I shall be afraid.” 

“But she is not that kind of proud. I know 
what you’ll do. You’ll do just what every girl 
has done. You’ll fall heels over head in love 
with her and before she goes, you’ll be ready 
to declare that she’s the dearest woman in the 
world.” 

“Except Aunt Debby,” said Hester with dig- 
nity. 

“Hester, will you light the alchohol lamp. 
Let us have a cup of cocoa before we go to 
bed. You set the chafing-dish boiling while I 
look for Aunt Harriet’s picture.” 

Helen began her search among the pictures 
which had been heaped in a basket; for after 
grave consideration, she and Hester had de- 
cided that photographs ranged about the wall 
were out-of-date and not at all in harmony with 
the other fittings of their rooms. 

Hester lighted the alchohol burner; sus- 
pended the kettle and brought forth the cups. 
This was one of the side-issues of school life 
on which she had not counted. She had been 
anticipating successive days of hard study and 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


75 


recitations. Having never experienced it, she 
could not dream of the little social bits which 
crept in as easy and naturally as they did at 
home; the half hour of confidential chat, the 
lunches, the visits into the rooms of the other 
girls, the walks and rides ; the gymnasium 
stunts and the dances where the tall girls lead. 

The kettle was boiling before Helen found 
the picture. 

“Here it is!” she cried triumphantly. “It 
is really soiled for I have kept it out for two 
or three years. This does not look as Aunt 
Harriet does now. It was taken a long time 
ago.” As she talked she held out the card to 
Hester. 

“Why, that is the picture I liked so well. 
When you were not here — that first evening 
I was alone, I looked over your pictures. What 
a sweet face she has and what dear little chil- 
dren! Is that little boy your cousin Eobert?” 

“Yes, but he does not look like that now. 
When I wish to tease him, I show him this pic- 
ture. He thinks it is horrid — perfectly horrid 
— though the word he uses is ‘beastly.’ He de- 
clares if he could find the man who took such 


76 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 

a picture he’d have him in jail— or have his 
life. ’ ’ 

“What for?” asked Hester. 

“Simply for putting out such a picture. 
Rob says it is libel — pure and simple, to say 
he ever looked like that.” 

“I think it is lovely,” said Hester. “Is the 
baby you?” 

“No; that is Aunt Harriet’s little girl. I 
am a year older than she.” 

Hester studied the picture attentively. 
While she did so, her mind reviewed the re- 
marks Helen had made in regard to the Vail 
family. There were statements at variance. 

“You said Robert had no sisters or 
brothers,” she said. 

“He hasn’t,” was the reply. “They did — 
that is — ” Helen was visibly embarrassed. 
She could not equivocate, neither could she go 
into details of a family history. She hesi- 
tated a moment and said, “Little Dorothy was 
not with them long — ^just a year.” 

“Poor little baby. It must he dreadful to 
die when you are little. You miss so much. If 
I had died when I was little, I should have been 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


77 


sorry all the time thinking about what I had 
missed.” 

Hester’s new logic caused her not to notice 
that Helen had made no affirmation in regard 
to the death of the child. 

“Little Dorothy,” was what Hester called 
her. From that time on, at odd moments, 
Hester introduced the subject of “little 
Dorothy,” yet never became aware that the 
subject was not a pleasing one to Helen who 
never encouraged or took part in it. 

Taking the card, Helen slipped it into the 
basket. 

“Is your cocoa ready, Hester? I am almost 
famished. I never eat veal, so Friday evenings 
I go hungry. Friday is always veal day at 
school.” 

“I was so interested in the picture that I 
forgot about the cocoa.” She hurried to the 
alcohol lamp. 

“It is burnt out. It really did not have much 
in it. I should have filled it, I suppose. But 
I am not accustomed to cooking in this way. 
The water is boiling. ’ ’ 

She measured the cocoa and cream into the 


78 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


cups and poured the boiling water from the 
kettle upon it. 

“I wish your Aunt Harriet would come to 
see you to-morrow,” continued Hester. “I 
liked her picture when I first saw it. I know 
that I should like her almost as much as I do 
Aunt Debby. Do you think that she will come 
to-morrow?” 

“No, not to-morrow. She went away last 
week. She did not expect to go, hut she heard 
something which caused her to go to Canada. 
Poor Aunt Harriet!” 

The last words surprised Hester. She 
could see no just cause for the use of that word 
“poor,” in connection with Mrs. Vail. To 
Hester’s mind, a woman with a city and coun- 
try home, automobiles, horses, and servants in 
livery was far from being poor. 

The week had been so filled with new experi- 
ences that Hester had been from her room only 
for recitations, meals and the required walk 
about the campus. She had met a number of 
the girls, but with the exception of Helen and 
Sara, could not remember the name of any. 

“I’ll never know one girl from another. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 79 

They all look alike to me, ’ ’ she said to Sara one 
day. 

“Not when you know them. You’ll kn ow 
Eenee — ” She stopped in time. She was not 
naturally critical. To express her opinion to 
Hester concerning the girls, was not fair. 

“We are all different,” she continued slowly. 
“All with different virtues and faults. To be 
perfectly candid, I’m the only really fine one 
in the set.” 

They had been walking arm in arm up and 
down the corridor. As they came to the rear 
door of the dormitory, Sara paused. “More 
notices, I see. Come, Hester, we must know 
the worst at once. Here is where our dear 
Miss Burkham makes known her by-laws.” 

For the first time, Hester observed the white 
cards stuck along the edge of the door. Paus- 
ing before them, she read aloud. 

‘ ‘ The young ladies will not make use of this 
entrance except to gain admittance to the 
gymnasium. On all other occasions, the front 
dormitory door must be used.” 

Then Sara explained. “Miss Burkham does 
not approve of visits at rear doors. When the 


80 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


girls have on the gym suits, they are not per- 
mitted to go to the front of the building. If 
you go out this door, you can enter the gym- 
nasium without attracting undue attention.” 

Sara smiled. Undue attention was Miss 
Burkham’s bugbear. She was always endeav- 
oring to instill into the minds of her charges, 
that a lady never attracts undue attention. 
The word had been in use so frequently that 
it had become a hy-word among the students. 

“The next card is what makes my mouth 
water,” continued Sara who had been reading 
silently. 

“Beginning with the first week of the fall 
term, the ice-cream man will keep to the front 
side of the east wing. Plates will be put in 
their usual place for Belva to take care of.” 

“Basket-ball team Number one — known as 
the Invincibles will hold a business meeting at 
10:30 Saturday morning in the gymnasium.” 

This last notice was signed, “Helen Loraine, 
Captain.” 

“She never told me,” cried Hester. “I 
never suspected that she was interested.” 

“Helen never tells anything about herself,” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


81 


said Sara. “Sometimes I grow quite exas- 
perated about her reticence. She has been on 
the team ever since she was a student here. 
She played well before she came. Her cousin, 
Rob Vail, was a captain when he was in school 
and he taught her all the tricks of the game.” 

Hester had no words to express herself. 
Basket-ball! It was enough to send the color 
to her cheeks. She had seen the boys in the 
high-school play. At home, girls did not in- 
dulge in such games. It might be that she her- 
self, Hester Alden, could learn to play and be 
put on one of those teams. The thought 
brightened her cheeks and sent the blood 
through her veins with excitement. 

“Who teaches you? How many teams have 
you, and how can you get on one ? Does it take 
long to learn to play?” 

Sara looked at her. Sara was deliberate. 
Her expression now was one of sad surprise. 

“Do you often talk as fast as that?” she 
asked. “And do you expect your friends to 
answer with the same velocity? If you do, 
Hester Alden, never come to me with your 
questions.” 


82 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Hester laughed. “I always talk fast when 
I get excited. The words pop from my mouth 
like pop-corn over a hot fire.” 

“Give me time and I’ll answer your ques- 
tions. Our crack team is the Invincibles. 
They are the only one we allow to play the 
tournament games with outside teams. They 
play with the girls from the high school, the 
Normal Training School and, with some of the 
seminary teams. I really do not remember 
how many games were scheduled last year. 
They have never allowed me to play. I’m 
too — . Helen Loraine is good enough to say 
‘deliberate.’ The other girls call it ‘slow.’ 

“Then of course there must be a scrub team 
for the Invincibles to battle against. You 
must play scrub before you can hope to become 
an Invincible. Then the freshies and juniors 
have substitute teams. They practice with 
each other and fill up on the other teams as 
they are needed.” 

“I think I could learn to play,” said Hester. 
“I am not — not very deliberate.” 

“I should say not, if you fly at a ball in the 
same way you talk. You might get on a sub- 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


83 


stitute team. Miss Watson, the physical-cul- 
ture teacher, will hold a meeting soon. The 
first week of school is generally so busy that 
the gymnasium work is not begun. 

‘‘But next week, she will meet the girls and 
make arrangements for the work on the teams 
and in the gym. If I were you and really 
wished to play, I’d speak to Helen Loraine. 
She’ll get you on if anyone can. You need a 
friend at court, for there are always more ap- 
plications than there are places or times for 
practice. 

“We must turn back. Miss Burkham would 
campus us, if we were to go out at this door.” 
Sara turned and arm in arm, the girls moved 
toward the front entrance. “Listen, do you 
hear that melodious bell? That is Sykes’s 
cow-bell. Come, and I’ll treat you.” 

Hester followed as Sara lead the way from 
the front dormitory door out on to the campus. 
As they passed the end room, the sound of 
voices in conversation came to them. 

“Can you let me have some perfume, Erma, 
and a fine handkerchief? I neglected to put 
mine in the laundry.” 


84 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“Help yourself,” was the reply. 

Sara smiled. “Erma Thomas is easily 
worked. If she does not take a firm stand, 
she’ll keep Renee in perfume and other extras 
for the entire year.” 

Just then the door opened and Renee Love- 
land came out. She was a tall, handsome girl, 
with the bearing of a princess. She bore in 
her hands a bottle of perfume and two dainty 
handkerchiefs. 

The campus sloped naturally toward the pub- 
lic road; yet it was several feet higher. The 
boundary had been made definite by a low ce- 
ment coping. On this, sat several girls, among 
which was Berenice Smith. Across the road 
was an ice-cream wagon, surrounded by a score 
of girls with their purses in their hands. The 
ice-cream man was measuring cream into small 
wooden butter-plates. 

“Here’s the way we do,” said Sara as Hes- 
ter looked dubiously about in search of means 
with which she might dispose of her cream. 

“This is the way.” Sara deftly broke off a 
bit of the dish where it curved upward. 
“These make the best spoons in the world. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 85 

and one never need bother keeping them in 
order. ’ ’ 

Soon walking by two’s and three’s, across 
the campus, moved the girls, each bearing in 
her hand her wooden dish with ice-cream, 

Berenice sat alone on the coping. Hester 
Alden was not a reader of faces and could give 
no reasons for her pet likes and dislikes. She 
instinctively did not like Berenice, although 
the acquaintance had gone no further than a 
passing word. Berenice was dark, with color- 
ing which inclined to swarthiness; her brow 
was low, and her eyes small and deeply set. 
She made an effort to be pleasant and inva- 
riably made flattering remarks to those with 
whom she conversed. As the girls approached, 
she held out her purse toward Sara. 

“Be good and bring me a chocolate and 
peach cream,” she said. “I am as far as I 
am allowed to go.” 

Taking the purse, Sara performed the com- 
mission and returned. 

“For how long?” she asked. 

“Two weeks. One week is almost over.” 

This was all Greek to Hester. She looked 


86 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


from one to the other; but they, taking it for 
granted that all the school world understood, 
offered neither explanation nor information. 

As they crossed the tan-bark, Marne Cross 
met them. She looked like a fashion-plate in 
a tailored gown and handsome hat. 

“I’ve had permission to go down town,” she 
said. “Do you want me to get anything for 
you?” The question was put to Sara. 

“We’re out of alcohol. You’d better order 
some.” 

“Did you know that Berenice is campused 
for two weeks ? She made fudge Monday even- 
ing after the study bell rang. Miss Burkham 
discovered it at once. Anyone passing through 
the hall could smell fudge cooking. ’ ’ 

“It seems strange that Miss Burkham should 
campus her for that. We made fudge. It was 
the first night and no one is expected to ob- 
serve study hours during the first evening.” 

“But Berenice lied. You know Miss Burk- 
ham will not tolerate deception. It was not 
making fudge but the deception that caused 
the punishment.” 

Marne moved away. She would have been 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 87 

a beautiful girl, had she not looked bored and 
unhappy. 

“You’re new suit is beautiful, Marne,” said 
Sara over her shoulder. 

“Do you think so! I simply cannot bear it. 
I never have anything like other girls.” 

“That is Marne’s old cry,” said Sara when 
she was beyond hearing. “She is the best- 
dressed girl in school and she has a father who 
is devoted to her. She has everything in the 
world to make her happy, but she’s always com- 
plaining. Now, Erma is different. She’s per- 
fectly satisfied. Every dress she owns is a per- 
fect love of a dress.” 

Hester had said very little during this hour 
with Sara; but she had learned a great deal. 
There had been no guile or envy in Sara’s 
frank expression of the virtues and faults of 
her friends ; and not for an instant did she think 
she was making an error or stepping over the 
border line of kindliness when she told Hester 
all she knew of those students. 


CHAPTER VI 


TXESTER was not a girl to condescend to 
subterfuge to gain a point. She was often 
frank to painfulness. To her mind when one 
wished a favor, the only way was to speak di- 
rectly and ask for it. She was neither politic 
nor tactful. She had decided that basket-ball 
was the one game that was really worth playing. 
Tennis was old and did not appeal to her. She 
and Jane Orr had played tennis ever since they 
had been old enough to hold a racquet. But 
basket-ball! The thought of it sent the blood 
coursing through her veins. 

At the first opportunity, she spoke to Helen. 
She went to the subject directly like a bullet to 
the bull’s eye. 

‘ ‘ Sara Summerson told me you were captain 
of the first team and that you had a good bit of 
influence in getting the girls on the other teams. 
I would like to play and I wish you would put 
me on. Will you?” 


88 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


89 


“I cannot pnt yon on the first or even the 
scrub. I must pick from the substitute teams 
to fill any vacancy. I have nothing at all to 
do with the sub. The physical instructor does 
that, and of course picks out the girls whom 
she thinks will be able to play the game. But 
I’ll speak to her about you.” 

“I wish you would,” said Hester. “I’m 
fairly aching to get into a game.” 

“You’ll be completely aching after your first 
practice,” said Helen. 

“I’ll soon get over it. My muscles were sore 
for days when I tried to skate, but I didn’t 
mind.” 

The first gymnasium meeting for new stu- 
dents was held Monday afternoon and Hester 
was first girl in the room. Helen had promised 
to go with her to see that she met Miss Watson 
but Helen was deliberate and Hester impatient. 
So Hester sat alone in the gymnasium for half 
an hour before any one appeared. 

Miss Watson was a practical worker. Be- 
fore many minutes had passed, she had the stu- 
dents enrolled, the classes organized and the 
time appointed for meetings. Having dis- 


90 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


patched the regular routine work, she began 
the organization of squads for tennis, and 
basket-ball. These were primarily to train the 
girls for work in the first teams which played 
the tournament games with other schools. 

Before she began her arrangements, Helen 
Loraine spoke with her. The conversation 
could not he heard, but Miss Watson looked 
toward Hester, smiled and nodded in affirma- 
tion. A few minutes later, she read the names. 
Among the freshmen substitutes were Hester’s 
and Berenice’s names. 

“But Berenice played last year,” whispered 
someone near Hester. “She plays a good 
game, too. Why didn’t Miss Watson put her 
first or scrub?” 

The reply came but too low for Hester’s ears. 
Helen was waiting in the corridor when Hester 
came out. “I know; Miss Watson said she 
would put you on. You’ll have a good place 
for passing. You know the game from obser- 
vation. But if I were you, I’d read the rules 
again and again. If you have them fairly fixed 
in your mind you are not so apt to make a foul 
play. Do your best, and you may work up to 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


91 


one of the other teams before long. Erma 
Thomas may not come back after the first of the 
year. That will leave one place for a substi- 
tute. She plays right guard. She’s one of the 
finest passers we’ve had, but she gets rattled 
if she tries to make a goal. She’s too nervous 
to play when she is conscious that any one is 
looking at her.” 

Hester was confident that she would not lose 
her head if the opportunity to make a goal 
came to her. Following Helen’s instructions, 
she studied the book of rules. She was early at 
the first practice. Miss Watson gave the posi- 
tions; Helen was referee. Hester was given 
the place of right guard. 

“Keep your eyes open,” said Helen. “I 
would give a good bit if you could make a play 
to put you on the first team.” 

Berenice was left guard. A moment before 
the game was called, she came up to Hester and 
spoke low that the others might not hear. 
“Helen Loraine knows the game, but there’s a 
whole lot of things she never sees. Louise 
Eeed is your opponent. She’s not at all a 
suspicious girl. You see to it that we win. 


92 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


They always pick substitutes from the team 
which wins.” 

Hester knew little of the subtleties of human 
nature, and consequently could not grasp the 
full import of the remark Berenice had made. 

Renee Loveland and Josephine Moore were 
captains. To Hester it seemed like an hour of 
intense excitement before the ball was in the 
air and Renee had sent it forward toward her. 

“Don’t hold it — don’t hold it,” was the one 
thought in Hester’s mind, for that rule in par- 
ticular, had made a peculiar impression upon 
her. She was naturally a quick actor. Now 
the ball was scarcely within her clutches until 
it was out again across the room to Berenice. 
Hester rushed toward the goal, just as Bere- 
nice, jerking under the arm of her opponent, 
passed the ball back to Hester. Again Hester 
deftly returned it; making a backward move- 
ment just as Louise was about to cover her. 
Again Berenice deftly caught it and dribbled 
for a yard or more. They were near enough 
to the basket for a goal; but Berenice’s op- 
ponent covered her. The ball went flying di- 
rect across the cage. Louise made a dash; 



Again Hester deftly returned it. — Page 92 


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HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


93 


Hester sprang forward and covered her. In 
the excitement of the play, Hester had put for- 
ward two hands. Just as quickly she remem- 
bered and swung her right arm about Louise, 
while with her left hand, she tossed the ball 
straight into Eenee’s clutch. Eenee, who knew 
the game and played it well, did not lose her 
presence of mind. Like a flash, she gave a for- 
ward leap and sent the ball to goal. But while 
it curved downward in the air, the whistle of 
the referee was heard. 

“Foul on the freshmen,” she cried. “Eight 
guard used two hands to cover.” 

“I think you are mistaken,” cried Berenice. 
“I wasn’t playing. Hester Alden’s arm was 
raised, but it did not touch her opponent.” 

“Yes; I did!” cried Hester. “I touched her 
and then remembered.” 

“I didn’t know. It must have been a very 
slight touch,’’ said Louise. 

“We’ve scored,” cried Berenice. 

“I am refereeing the game. Foul on the 
freshmen.” Determination shone in Helen’s 
eyes as she gave Berenice a look that would 
have subdued a sensitive person. Turning 


94 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


about, Hester tossed the ball to Louise who 
made a goal from the foul of the freshmen 
team. The ball went back to center and the 
game again was on. 

At the end of the first half, the score stood 
six to eight in favor of the sophomores. 

Berenice came up to Hester while she was 
struggling into her sweater. ‘‘You see how it 
is,” she whispered. Her eyes were snapping 
with anger and her voice fairly hissed. “You 
see what a little prude like you can do. If you 
would have sustained me, Renee’s goal would 
have counted us two, and Louise would have 
had no chance to make a goal or foul. It 
would have been 8 to 7 in our favor.” 

“But I really did touch,” said Hester. “It 
was a foul, all right. I suppose I should have 
remembered in time; but this is my first game, 
and there’s a lot to learn.” 

“There’s something that you will never 
learn,” was the retort and Berenice turned and 
walked away. 

Hester did not grasp all that Berenice wished 
to convey. She believed the girl was vexed be- 
cause of the score and attributed Berenice’s 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


95 


anger to righteous indignation at bad playing. 
Helen came up before the beginning of the 
second half. “Wbat about playing this, Hes- 
ter?” she asked. “You did some bard playing 
for a new girl. Do you think you can stand 
it for a second half? You’ll be stiff to-morrow. 
I’ll ask Eenee to have Edna Bucher substitute 
for you.” 

“I’d rather finish, myself,” cried Hester. 
“Why, I wouldn’t stop now for worlds!” 

“Your own sore muscles be upon yourself 
then, little roommate,” said Helen smiling, “I 
have warned you. All that is left for me is to 
offer the use of my witch-hazel and arnica.” 

“I will not have Edna Bucher substitute,” 
cried Eenee coming up. “I am glad Hester has 
grit enough to keep to it. This evening we 
must make a score.” 

“And to-morrow there will be wailing and 
groaning and rubbing of muscles,” said Helen. 
The ten minutes was up. Helen moved toward 
the center of the cage. 

During the second half, Hester had no active 
work. She guarded Louise and 'was careful 
not to make another foul move. Berenice was 


96 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


an active player, getting so interested in the 
game that she forgot her special work. She 
never played into another’s hand. Although 
Renee was the champion at throwing goals, 
Berenice risked the score rather than give the 
play to the center. She appeared determined 
that Hester should not come within touch of 
the ball, and she moved like a flash of light, 
hither and thither, across the cage, seeming to 
be everywhere at once. 

Helen watched the game closely. She was 
an impartial referee; her one desire being to 
play a fair game. She was aware of Berenice’s 
playing at cross purposes and watched her 
closely. At last she called a foul. 

“I don’t see why,” cried Berenice. Her 
little beady eyes snapped as she approached 
Helen and looked defiantly up at her. 

“Two-hand dribble — the second time you 
have done the same thing. The first I let pass 
unnoticed just — to give you time.” 

“I positively did not two-hand the ball. If 
that is a foul, I — ” 

“I am a referee. Get out of the game. 
Edna Bucher is called to substitute.” 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 97 

“I will not — ” began Berenice. 

“Get out of the game within a minute or 
you shall be penalized for all the games to 
follow.” There was no disputing Helen. 
Her manner was calm and her voice low, but 
authority was in her bearing. She stood ready 
to give the signal to play; but before she put 
the whistle to her lips, she said quietly, “While 
I am managing, we’ll play an honest game or 
we will not play at all.” 

The girls, except Berenice, cheered and 
clapped. She was making her way from the 
gymnasium. Her heart was filled with anger 
and a scowl was on her face. How she hated 
Helen Loraine! It was not the first time 
Helen had criticised her. 

“And Hester Alden will be another one just 
like Helen- — too goody-good to live,” was her 
thought. Even after Berenice was being dis- 
qualified, Hester did not understand fully all 
that had taken place. It was not until they 
were at the baths, that a full understanding 
came to her. Outside the bath, were the 
lockers. Sara and Eenee had come up and 
paused for a moment. 


98 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


“Will you allow Berenice to play next 
game?” asked Sara. 

“Miss Watson must settle that. The cap- 
tain and referee may disqualify for one game ; 
but to make it permanent penalizing, the mat- 
ter must be brought before Miss Watson. It 
is a very difficult matter to explain. The best 
way would be to have Miss Watson referee for 
one or two games. Then she would grasp the 
subtleties of the situation.” 

They passed on. When they were almost 
beyond hearing, Eenee’s voice sounded loud 
and clear. 

“Sara, I do wish you’d let me wear your tan 
shoes down town to-morrow evening. I have 
permission to go, and I wish to wear my brown 
suit, but I have no tan shoes. I wear the same 
size as you.” 

Hester smiled. She had known Eenee but 
ten days, during which time she could not re- 
member one instance when the conversation did 
not conclude with “will you lend?” 

Hester was deliberate in matters of getting 
from a gym suit into a dress. When she was 
ready to appear, the corridor leading from the 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


99 


gymnasium baths was deserted except for the 
sweep-women who were putting the finishing 
touches to their work. 

Hester hurried out. As she crossed the 
campus, she found Josephine Moore sitting on 
the steps leading up to the dormitory. Prom 
this place, there was an excellent view of the 
river and the mountain beyond. Josephine 
appeared to be spell-bound by it. She was a 
large girl with quantities of brown hair which 
she drew loosely back and coiled at the back 
of her head. Her eyes were large, lusterless 
and of a weak and faded blue, but Josephine 
had read novels and knew what speaking eyes 
meant. She tried to make her eyes soulful. 
She was of a romantic turn of mind, and al- 
though she would not have prevaricated for 
the world or done another harm by repeating 
anything to their detriment, she was a dreamer 
of day-dreams. So well did she dream that it 
was difiicult sometimes for her to know where 
truth ended and dreams began. 

“Can you not sit a while!” she asked. She 
moved to make room beside herself. Her voice 
was low and full and had in it a pathetic 


100 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


quality which was in harmony with her dreams. 
Hester sat down beside her. Being somewhat 
awed by this magnificent creature with the soul- 
ful eyes, Hester sat in silence. 

“I love this time of day,” began Josephine 
in low rapturous voice. “I love the gathering 
twilight. I think this is the hour when poets 
must sit and dream. The world and work and 
all horrid things are passing and only the 
tender twilight hangs like a mantle over all.” 
She paused and looked at her companion. 
Hester felt that a reply of some sort was ex- 
pected. She said the first and easiest thing 
that came to mind. “Yes, it is sort of nice.” 

“ ‘Nice’ is scarcely the word. I wish I 
knew what would exactly express the feeling. 
Sublime, soulful — ” She paused and raised 
her eyes as though to scan the heavens. “I 
suppose I feel differently from other people. 
They tell me that my singing shows soul. I 
myself have often noticed the difference be- 
tween myself and other girls. Would you be- 
lieve it? They pass here with laughter and 
jest. I cannot do that. I always pause and 
look at the trees and river. It seems as though 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 101 


a spell comes upon me. I cannot laugh and jest 
in the midst of such sublime things. ’ ’ 

“Is Hester Alden there?” cried a gay voice. 
“Oh, is that yon, Jo? Mooning? You had 
better come in. If you sit on those cold stones, 
yon ’ll take cold and your nose will be red and 
your eyes watery. You’ll not be sublime 
then. ’ ’ The cheer and good-nature in the voice 
robbed it of ill-feeling. Erma laughed as she 
appeared. No one could take exception to any- 
thing she said. She was too happy — too well 
satisfied with the world and the people about 
her to do anything or say anything in bitter- 
ness. 

Josephine arose slowly as became one of a 
poetic and soulful temperament. 

“You are the slowest mortal, Jo. You are 
wanted up in Philo Hall. You haven’t fifteen 
minntes until the first study bell. The girls 
have been looking everywhere for you. You 
are on the program committee.” 

“I was carried away — ,” began Miss Moore. 
But Erma had turned her back upon the girl. 
As she was about to speak to Hester, she was 
diverted from her intention by the sound of 


102 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


wheels. Both she and Hester turned to look as 
a carriage with a coachman in liveiy, came from 
porte-cochere, turned down the driveway and 
passed within a few feet of where the girls 
stood. The carriage passed under an arc 
light and Erma and Hester saw distinctly the 
features of the woman in the carriage. She 
had a beautiful face, although marked with 
care. Her hair was white, yet her bearing as 
she sat erect, was that of a young woman. 

“What a sweet face!” cried Hester. “ That 
is the carriage that blocked our way, the day 
that Aunt Debby came up to school with me. 
I remember most distinctly. ’ ’ 

The occupant of the carriage had not looked 
in their direction. Even had she done so, she 
could not have distinguished the girls ; for they 
stood leaning against the pillars and the moving 
shadows fell dark upon them. 

When the carriage had passed, Erma turned 
to her companion. “Helen was looking for 
you. I told her if I saw you, I’d tell you to go 
to your room. Helen has had company — at 
least I saw someone in her room. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ It may be Aunt Debby, ’ ’ cried Hester. She 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 103 


did not wait to explain. She paused not to ex- 
cuse herself, but went racing down the corridor 
as fast as her feet would carry her. Her heels 
clattered on the hard wood floors and the sound 
of her labored breathing was audible at a con- 
siderable distance. 

Just as she reached Number Fifteen, the door 
opened and Hester was taken by the arm. This 
was so unexpected that her first impulse was to 
jerk away, and hurry on. Fortunately a sober 
second thought overcame the impulse. 

“Miss Alden, is the building burning? Why 
this haste?” Hester raised her eyes to those 
of the preceptress. Miss Burkham was the 
acme of all that was cultured and elegant. No 
imagination was strong enough to picture her, 
other than deliberate, low-voiced, serene of 
countenance. Hester who knew more of blunt- 
ness than irony, replied fearlessly, “No, there 
is no fire. I wished to get to my room as 
quickly as possible.” 

“So I surmised. But I see no necessity for 
this unladylike haste.” Her restraining hand 
was yet upon Hester’s shoulder. The girl felt 
herself quivering with the desire to be off down 


104 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


the corridor and up the stairs to Number Sixty- 
two. What if Aunt Debby should really be 
there waiting for her? Her heart beat fast 
with the thought. 

Miss Burkham also felt the quivering of flesh 
under restraint. She delayed Hester yet longer 
while she made plain to her the unwritten by- 
laws of a lady’s conduct. 

“No lady races through the halls, in such 
fashion. It is the manner of a tom-boy. You 
may walk slowly down the corridor. I will 
stand here to see if you comprehend just what 
I mean by slowly. I trust that I may not be 
compelled to ask you to return in order that I 
may give you instructions in regard to the man- 
ner in which a lady walks. ’ ’ 

“No, Miss Burkham,” replied Hester humbly. 
She controlled her impatience at being thus 
detained. Miss Burkham released her and Hes- 
ter moved forward as though by well-directed 
machinery. 

On reaching Number Sixty-two, she found 
Helen standing before her dressing-table. She 
was alone. She turned as Hester entered. 

“Little roommate,” she said smiling a wel- 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


105 


come at Hester. “Little roommate, I am vexed 
with you. I have been sending messengers 
everywhere in the hope of finding you. My 
dear Aunt Harriet was here and asked for you 
in particular. She waited until the last pos- 
sible moment. And see there.” 

Helen pointed to a hamper which stood near 
the doorway. ‘ ‘ She has brought us fruit, cake, 
and roasted chickens. No, I did not open the 
basket. Aunt Harriet told me what was there. 
It is for you as well as for me. I know Aunt 
Harriet, and I know how the basket is arranged. 
There will be a chicken for you and one for me ; 
a box of fudge for you and one for me; 
and so on through the entire menu. Aunt 
Harriet is very much afraid that some girl will 
have her feelings hurt or feel slighted. Open 
up the basket, Hester. I must take off this 
waist. The collar hurts me. It always was 
too high. I’ll feel more comfortable in a 
kimona. ’ ’ 

She turned to her dressing table. “Aunt 
Harriet brought me something which pleased 
me. I have an old pin which belonged to 
mother when she was a girl. I thought I had 


106 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


lost it, but Aunt Harriet said I left it at her 
home and she brought it with her.” 

Helen held the pin in her hand while she 
talked. Then she laid it carelessly in a little 
pin tray on the dresser. It was a pin of un- 
usual style, about the size of a dime. The 
outer band was of a peculiar gold. Within this 
was a yellowish-white stone which reflected the 
light like a flame of fire. 

Hester’s eyes would have opened wide at the 
sight of the pin, but she did not see it, for her 
attention was on the hamper she was impack- 
ing. 


CHAPTEE VII 


T HEEE was at Dickinson a Doctor Wilbur 
who bad charge of the mathematics. He 
was a man of brilliant mind, sharp tongue, and 
a poor opinion of the mental ability of girls 
in general. He had been at Dickinson two 
years, not because he loved the class of stu- 
dents, but the financial consideration had been 
the best ever offered to him. 

The girls feared him and yet respected him 
for the power he exercised over a class. 

He did not hesitate to use sarcastic speech. 
Scarcely a day passed, but some girl came 
from Class-room C with her feelings deeply 
wounded. 

Hester, who had a way of “speaking up,” 
had borne her share of Doctor Wilbur’s humor. 
But she forgot and forgave the instant she left 
his recitation. 

One day he had been particularly trying, and 
the sting of his words had lingered. She had 
107 


108 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


it in mind to tell Helen of the bitter words 
Doctor Wilbur bad burled at ber, simply be- 
cause sbe could not explain tbe projection of a 
perpendicular upon a plane. So far in tbeir 
school life — two months bad passed — Hester 
and Helen bad spoken to each other only of tbe 
agreeable things. But now Hester meant to 
express herself and be sympathized with. 

But when sbe reached Sixty-two, she found 
Edna Bucher awaiting ber. Edna was tall 
and slender; long and lank, perhaps would be 
more nearly ber description. She was color- 
less and lifeless. Her one desire seemed to be 
to be ladylike and to go with tbe best people. 
In ber lexicon, best meant those with money 
or influence. Her bands were always cold, 
and her face expressionless. Sbe posed as be- 
ing tbe leader in classes. She was literary and 
musical, if one might believe her own judgment 
of herself. Sbe never played, however, for tbe 
practice tired ber. When sbe failed to respond 
to an invitation to recite — sometimes tbe in- 
vitation was quite urgent — it was not that sbe 
was not prepared to recite, but sbe was so 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 109 


nervous that she could not control her voice. 

“I’ve been waiting for you for half an 
hour,” she began as Hester entered the room. 
Her tones implied, that although the responsi- 
bility be on Hester’s head, she would be good 
enough to overlook it. 

“Were you?” replied Hester. “You surely 
knew that the freshies were busy until this 
hour.” 

“I presume I did so; but it passed entirely 
from my mind. I was so absorbed in my work. 
I am editor-in-chief of the ‘Dickinson Mir- 
ror.’ ” 

“Oh,” exclaimed Hester. She looked at 
Miss Bucher again. The glory of being editor 
of the “Mirror” cast a halo about the head of 
the otherwise unattractive girl. 

“Yes, the girls selected me. I do not under- 
stand why they did. They appeared to thi nk 
I had literary ability. Of course, I do not see 
that I have, but everyone speaks about it.” 

She had an unpleasant little mannerism of 
talking through closed teeth and but slightly 
parted lips. In conversation, she used her lips 


110 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


as little as possible. It may bave been that 
she wished to keep them from wearing out, or 
perhaps, she considered it unladylike to open 
her mouth more than was absolutely necessary. 

“I came to have you help. We always ap- 
point four girls to collect news, write special 
articles and poetry. Of course everything 
must treat of school life. Then, when it is 
printed — ” 

“Printed,” cried Hester, her eyes snapping 
with fire. “Do you really have it printed and 
do the ones who write things have their names 
in it?” 

“Certainly. It is issued four times a year; 
once during each semester, and a special souv- 
enir one for commencement. What do you 
think you’d like to do?” 

“I’ll write some poetry,” said Hester. She 
had never written any in her life, but she had 
the feeling that she could do it by half trying. 

“Poetry, isn’t hard,” she replied airily to 
Miss Bucher’s look of surprise. “Just make 
out a list of rhymes like this.” She took up 
a paper and wrote: 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


111 


Side 

wide 

right 

miglit 

knee 

me. 

“Then you fill them in,” she continued. She 
held the pencil suspended in the air. Her 
brow was puckered with thought. ‘ ‘ Of course, 
it isn’t supposed to read as sensibly as prose. 
That is one of the greatest differences between 
them. In poetry one must use imagination 
and poetic license.” Then she fell to work 
upon the paper and wrote steadily and labori- 
ously for some minutes. Her eye flashed with 
triumph. “Listen. Of course this is mere 
rough work. I’ll polish up what I write for 
the ‘Mirror.’ 

“Imogen was by his side. 

So they wandered far and wide. 

The woods and vales stretched left and right. 
He loved the girl with all his might, 

So dropping on his bended knee 
He cried, ‘Oh, fair one, pity me.’ ” 


112 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


A peal of laughter followed this closing line. 
It was a merry peal without malice or guile. 
Hester turned. Erma was standing in the 
doorway. 

“Oh, but that is rich! He dropped on his 
bended knee. Could he get on his knee if it 
wasn’t bended?” She laughed aloud. 

“You are so literal!” cried Hester with 
dignity. “In poetry, one is allowed — ” 

“Poetry,” another merry laugh. “Is that 
poetry? Take it to Doctor Weldon’s classes 
and let her put her seal of approval on it. ’ ’ 

Erma had made her way to the door. With a 
mock courtesy and a sweep of her skirts, she 
vanished. But as she went down the cor- 
ridor, the girls in Sixty-two caught the echo 
of her laugh and her song, “And dropping on 
his bended knee.” 

Miss Bucher was a lady who arose to the 
occasion. She did not give way to merriment. 
Her face was colorless and serene. 

“I understand fully. Miss Alden, the point 
you wish to make. Miss Thomas has no liter- 
ary appreciation.” She paused. There is but 
one thing worse in the world than adverse 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 113 


just criticism, and that is praise so faint that 
it is damaging. Miss Bucher paused as though 
to weigh her words. Then she spoke: “Miss 
Thomas means well enough, hut — well, nature 
has not gifted us all in the same way.” 

It was fair enough, or seemed to he. Yet 
Hester felt that intangible something to which 
one cannot respond, because one feels rather 
than knows of its existence. 

Miss Bucher arose. She was not given to 
furbelows. Each line of her attire accentuated 
her angles and height. 

“I will go now. I am glad you will help 
me. Could you have your poem or whatever 
you decide upon ready by Monday?” 

“I shall have it ready to give you when we 
go into chapel. I shall have something. Do 
not fear.” 

Scarcely had the door closed upon the caller, 
when Hester was at her study-table with pen- 
cil and writing-pad. Inspiration had seized 
her. She would write a poem that would be 
worthy the name. It would appear in the 
“Mirror” with her name below, “Hester Al- 
den.” On second thought, decided to write 


114 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


it Hester Palmer Alden. The Palmer gave an | 
added dignity to her name. How pleased | 
Aunt Debby would be! What a pleasure it ] 

would be to write ! Perhaps in time she might > 

be editor-in-chief. Then when she left school ■, 
— at that instant a part of Hester Alden which 
had been dormant awoke. The desire for ex- 
pression came to her. What beautiful glorious 
things she would write — some day ! Just what 
they would be or when she would write them, 
she knew not. But they were so beautiful that 
the tears came to her eyes as she dreamed of 
them. 

Helen did not come back to her rooms until 
barely time to dress for dinner. She found 
Hester with her head on the table, and a huge 
tablet before her. 

“Sick, little roommate?” asked Helen, bend- 
ing over her. 

“No; I have been writing a poem — that is, 

I have begun to write one. I have sat here for 
an hour and all I have written is the first line. 

It was easy.” 

“First lines usually are,” said Helen smil- 
ing. In many ways, she was more years older 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 115 


than Hester than the calendar gave her credit 
for. 

“What is the first line? May I read it?” 

“ ‘Doe Dixon had a Freshman Class,’ It 
begins fairly well; but you will startle your 
leaders with such a sudden burst into facts. 
WThy not lead up to the subject and break the 
news gently?” 

“You may all ridicule; but I intend writing 
a poem. All the ridicule you cast upon me will 
make me but the more determined.” 

“I believe that. I have observed that trait 
on several occasions. You make me think of 
Rob Vail in that way.” 

“I shall finish after dinner,” was Hester’s 
sole comment. “I presume I had better pre- 
pare for it now. Are you wearing a silk 
dress?” she asked as she turned toward Helen 
and saw that she was getting into a little one- 
piece suit of checked silk instead of her cus- 
tomary white. 

“Yes, mother thinks I dress too thinly. If 
I wear the white I cannot wear long sleeves. 
So I have promised to keep to this dark silk, 
though I do not like it nearly so well. ’ ’ 


116 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


She had slipped into her dress and was look- 
ing about for her pins and rings. “I had a 
little old pin on my dresser. Did you see any- 
thing of it, Hester?” 

“No, indeed. I never presume to touch 
anything there without your permission.” 

“I did not mean to suggest that, little room- 
mate. I carelessly let it lie there several days 
ago, and now I cannot find it.” 

“I have not seen it,” said Hester. She 
spoke quickly and perhaps, with unusual curt- 
ness. At least it seemed so to Helen, who at- 
tributed the curtness to Hester’s being hurt at 
being asked such a question. She let the sub- 
ject drop and no further word passed between 
them until they were called to dinner. 

When study hour came again, Hester pushed 
aside her text books and fell to writing. The 
door of the study, during this time, was always 
open and no words were permitted between 
roommates. Helen, observing that her room- 
mate was not working at her lessons, gave her 
several warning glances; but Hester was un- 
affected. The muse had laid its hands upon 
her and she was helpless in its clutches. She 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 117 

wrote and erased, only to rewrite and erase 
again. 

It was not until the study period was over 
that she raised her head and with a smile of 
triumph read aloud : 

“Doctor Dixon had a freshman class, 

Whose minds were soft like snow. 

He tried to teach them geometry, 

But he could not make it go. 

He scolded them in class one day ; 

He shocked the entire school. 

The tears ran down one sweet girl’s face, 
When he called her a mule.” 

A look of surprise flashed over Helen’s face. 
“Surely Hester, he never would do that. He 
is critical and sarcastic, but surely he is a 
gentleman.” 

‘ ‘ Do what ? ’ ’ asked Hester. ‘ ‘ Why surely he 
is a gentleman.” 

‘ ‘ Surely, he never would dare address one of 
the pupils in that way. A mule!” 

Hester laughed. “You are taking matters 
seriously. You must remember that this is 
poetry, and allowance must be made. In 
poetry, one cannot describe matters as they 


118 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


are. One cannot be too realistic. One must 
use what fits in. I was compelled to use the 
word mule because it was the only one I could 
think of which rhymed with school. Now listen 
to the rest, please Helen.” She continued 
reading wholly unconscious that her roommate 
was not in sympathy with her. 

“And then they ran to him and asked. 

As he came forth from school, 

‘Doctor, dear, which is it best to he, 

A driver or the mule ? ’ 

“ ‘The mule has the best of it,’ he said, 

‘So I’m inclined to think, 

It can be driven to the water’s edge, 

But it can’t be made to drink.’ ” 

“There, don’t you think that is fine, Helen? 
That will appear in the next issue of the 
‘Mirror’ with my name at the bottom. Aunt 
Debby will be delighted.” 

There was no enthusiastic response. Hester 
waited a moment, then looked at her roommate, 
and again asked, “Don’t you think she will be 
delighted? She has never suspected that I 
was poetic. Indeed, I never knew it until Miss 
Bucher asked me to write this.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


119 


“If Aunt Debby is the kind of woman I think 
she is, I am sure she will not be at all pleased.” 
Helen spoke slowly. Then at the look of sur- 
prise in Hester’s eyes, she crossed the room, 
and sitting down on the arm of her roommate’s 
chair drew Hester’s head close against her and 
held her thus in a tender protective embrace, 
while she continued. 

“No, little roommate, I do not believe she 
will be pleased. I am not. It is fun — ^mere 
fun, I know. Were you and I the only two to 
know of it, it would do no harm at all. But 
consider, little roommate, the ‘Mirror’ goes 
out to all the old students. Hundreds read it. 
Among them, are many just as I who took the 
matter seriously, without considering that the 
poet was put to straits to find some word to 
rhyme with school. 

“They will think that we have grown lax 
here. Many will wonder what sort of man this 
Doctor Wilbur is that he dare use such terms 
in addressing a student. Do you see now why 
I wish this would not appear in the ‘Mirror’?” 

“I see why you think it should not. But 
really people are very foolish to cavil over such 


120 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


matters. If I might have my way, I would 
pay no attention to them. I would go my way, 
do as I please and let such people think as they 
please.” 

“It is a very independent way of doing, but 
it is not at all practical. We must consider 
public opinion a great many times. We must 
hedge ourselves about with convention when 
we would be independent, for always there are 
some minds which put evil construction upon 
the slightest careless act.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” said Hester 
slowly. Before her faded the dreams of great- 
ness. Taking up the paper, she deliberately 
and slowly tore it into pieces and threw them 
into the wastebasket. She expressed no word 
of regret. She expected no expression of ad- 
miration for her fortitude. She was no weak- 
ling. If she believed a thing were right, she 
would have performed it, regardless of the sac- 
rifice to herself. She was the expression of 
Debby Alden’s high ideals and rigid discipline. 

“I’ll get up earlier than usual to-morrow,” 
said Hester lightly. “I promised on my word 
of honor to have a copy ready for Miss Bucher. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 121 


If I may not write poetry, at least I can write 
personals. Let us go to bed now before the 
retiring bell rings.” 

A hurried knock came to the door. Before 
either girl could respond, Renee entered. She 
wore a gay kimona of embroidered silk. Her 
dark wavy hair hung over her shoulders. She 
looked like a goddess as she paused an instant 
on the threshold. Then advancing, she cried, 
“Oh, girls, do you happen to have any cold 
cream? I’m out and I do need some partic- 
ularly badly.” 

“Yes, I have some.” Helen took a small 
box from the dresser and gave it to Renee. 

“Thank you ever so much.” Without fur- 
ther words, Renee went her way. 

Hester waited until the sound of her foot- 
steps had died away. 

“I was thinking,” she began slowly. Her 
brow was puckered as though she were greatly 
perplexed. “I’ve been thinking that I never 
heard Renee say anything but ‘Will you lend 
me?’ Does she not know anything else?” 

“I presume she does, but she has allowed 
the habit to grow. Each year, she grows 


122 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


worse. I fancy by the time she graduates, she 
will borrow our diplomas and essays. It may 
be that by that time, Eenee will have partic- 
ular need of them.” 

Hester had prepared for bed and was sitting 
on the edge of her own little iron cot waiting 
until Helen was ready to say good-night. 

“I am going to remain up some time, little 
roommate. But you need not wait for me.” 
She crossed the room and kissed Hester af- 
fectionately. Somehow Helen had fallen into 
the older sister attitude toward her roommate. 
Since the first week of school, Hester had never 
gone to sleep without Helen’s kiss warm on 
her lips. This had never been done after the 
fashion of a sentimental school girl who ca- 
resses everything which comes in her way. 
Helen was not demonstrative, and what her 
lips touched, touched strongly her affections. 

“I must make a thorough search for my pin,” 
she said, going back to her dressing-table, to 
begin the search. “I must not lose it. It is 
a peculiar design. It was once an earring 
belonging to Grandma Hobart. It has her 
hair woven about it. When Aunt Harriet and 



“ Oh, girls, do you happen to have any cold cream? ” — Page 121 



HESTER’S COUNTERPART 123 


mama were babies — they were babies at tbe 
same time, you know — grandma bad tbe ear- 
rings made into pins. Mama wore tbis for 
years, and then gave it to me. I should feel 
bad if I should lose it.” 

Hester scarcely beard what Helen said. Her 
mind was busy with thoughts of tbe literary 
work to be ready before chapel. She was run- 
ning over in her mind all the material at hand 
which could be worked into personals to ap- 
pear in the “Mirror.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


T)EPORE the midwinter holidays, the re- 
port was the round of the dormitories 
that Hester Alden was playing a good game of 
basket-ball. She was alert and quick. Her 
passing was particularly good and Helen 
praised her highly. Hester was brimming with 
enthusiasm. The one fly in her cup of oint- 
ment was that Aunt Debby could not see her 
play, for the games of the substitute teams 
were never public. If perseverance and whole- 
hearted desire meant anything in winning out, 
Hester meant to be on the second team. Then 
she ran the chance of substituting. 

Berenice could play the game well, but was 
inclined to use tricks and artifices which gen- 
erally resulted in a foul being called on her 
own team. Consequently her good playing and 
dishonesty barely averaged as much as the fair 
dealing of the average player. 

Three times each week, the gymnasium work 
124 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 125 


was basket-ball. Tbe day before- Thanksgiv- 
ing an extra practice was called because the 
session in school had been shortened. 

Berenice and Hester were playing right and 
left guard. Berenice who had never for- 
given Hester for her attitude in the first game 
of the year, kept the ball as much as possible 
to herself even risking the game for the sake 
of annoying Hester. 

‘‘You’re wasting your time on grand-stand 
plays,” said Renee while the referee had called 
time. “Hester plays well at passing. Give 
her a show. You dribble and dribble and half 
the time make a foul when you might have 
played into Hester’s hand.” 

Berenice shrugged her shoulders; her bead- 
like eyes snapped; but she made no reply. 

While this conversation was going on be- 
tween them, Erma Thomas had hurried up to 
Hester. “Berenice is determined not to play 
ball into your hands. It’s pure jealousy. Do 
some playing, Hester, and make goals. Play 
ball to me when you wish to pass, and I’ll pass 
it to you for a goal.” 

Helen put up her whistle and the game was 


126 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


resumed. The ball was at center with Renee 
and Maud. Berenice’s eyes were alight, and 
every muscle quivering with excitement. 
Scarcely was the ball in air, before it was in 
her hand, and she was moving toward the goal. 
Her guard was upon her, but by a quick move- 
ment, Berenice and the ball slipped under the 
outstretched arm, and by deft movements, 
came close to goal. Making a sudden spurt 
with the ball in hands, she pitched for a goal. 
But at that instant, the whistle sounded. 

“That is the third foul you’ve made in this 
game,” cried Helen, “and we have played 
scarcely ten minutes.” She tossed the ball to 
the opposing team. “Foul on the first subs.” 

Marne Cross caught the ball and took a posi- 
tion before the goal, but Berenice would not 
accept the decision of the referee. 

“Helen has a spite against me. How was I 
foul there?” 

Helen was given no opportunity to answer. 
Renee, who was just and severe at times, came 
forward. 

“Foul, of course, it was. It was evident as 
could be. You are always stirring up a fuss 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 127 


and holding back the game. You are the only 
one on the squad who cannot play an honest 
game. Leave the cage, and remain out. 
Maude may take your place permanently.” 

With her own captain against her, there was 
nothing to he done except to obey. Already 
Maud was within the cage and at her place. 

The game continued. Marne pitched a goal 
from Berenice’s foul. With the ball again 
back to center, it was evident that Berenice in 
spite of her brilliant playing, had been a drag 
on the game. Before this, she had been the 
team and the others were mere fillers-in. Now 
each took a more active part. 

Maude was not one who played for her own 
glory, hut to score for the team. The ball came 
to her and she passed it to Hester, and hurried 
forward to receive it on its return. She 
reached the basket and might have made a goal, 
but she was short while Hester was tall and 
quick in movement. Those considerations 
came to the girl, and quick as a flash she passed 
the hall to Hester. There was a sudden up- 
ward movement of Hester’s long arms, a slowly 
curving hall and a final goal. It was the first 


128 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


score tlieir team had made since the beginning 
of the game. 

This success was like wine in Hester’s veins. 
The desire to make goals came upon her. It 
seized her like a mania. It was impossible to 
tell whether it were luck or skill. But in the 
second half of the game, Hester pitched a goal 
from every ball which was passed to her. That 
practice game went down in the history of 
Dickinson as the one in which one player made 
ten successive goals from the field. 

The wealth of the Incas was as nothing to 
Hester in comparison to the congratulations of 
the girls who crowded upon her at the close 
of the game. 

“You’ll get on the scrub, sure,” cried Erma 
in her high excited tones. “Remember your 
old friends when you rise to glory.” 

Their praises were very sweet; but sweetest 
of all was Helen’s quiet commendation, when 
after all the excitement had passed, they were 
back in Sixty-two. 

“I never saw a better play. I never knew i 
a girl who learned the game so quickly, and I 
I have coached a number during my three years. | 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


129 


If you do as well the next game, I’ll substitute 
you on the scrub team. I have one girl there 
who will never learn. She does no better than 
she did a year ago.” 

“Do you suppose I might be called then as 
substitute on the scheduled games,” cried Hes- 
ter. 

“If you’re the best player. I’ll pick only 
the best. I will not risk a game even for friend- 
ship’s sake — even for your sake, little room- 
mate.” 

“I mean to be the best player,” said Hester 
quietly. Helen’s calmness had always the ef- 
fect of quieting her in her intense excitement. 

But Miss Hester had yet to learn that other 
powers than one’s own desire, enter into re- 
sults. 

The first team had played eight games, four 
having been in their own gymnasium and the 
remainder at different schools. On these trips 
to the seminaries and normals, they were 
treated royally. Hester could imagine nothing 
finer than being met by carriages, whirled away 
to dormitories where the guest-chambers were 
at their disposal and later to be banqueted. 


130 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


During the fall term, Dickinson had retained 
second place. Helen was determined that they 
should move to first and secure the pennant 
whose value was that of the laurel wreaths of 
the Olympiads. In order to put up the best 
game possible, Helen attended every skirmish 
and practice, determined that her substitutes 
should be the best. In addition to her regular 
work this self-imposed task of overlooking the 
substitutes’ games, gave her little leisure. 

Each day, before dinner and lunch, there was 
a quarter-hour relaxation period. To Helen, 
this was anything but what the name stood for. 
The loss of her pin troubled her. She was 
confident that it was somewhere in her bed- 
room. She very distinctly remembered remov- 
ing it from her stock and placing it in the 
cushion which stood on her dresser. There 
was a possibility of its being knocked off, or 
being caught in ribbon and ties, and so might 
have been dropped somewhere. She began a 
systematic search. One day, she emptied the 
drawers in the dresser and examined every 
article there, to he sure that the pin was not 
clinging to it. She peered under and about 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


131 


each article of furniture. But no pin appeared. 
While she was on her knees searching the cor- 
ners of the room and edges of the rug, Erma 
appeared in the doorway. She gave a peal of 
delight. 

“Have you turned Moslem; or is it Mo- 
hammed who takes long journeys on his knees 
to do penance? I have passed your door twice 
and each time I find you crawling about on all 
fours like a Teddy Bear.” 

“I’ve lost my pin. I am sick about it.” 

“I wouldn’t be. No pin is worth being even 
half sick about. Buy yourself another, or bet- 
ter yet, Christmas is coming. Throw out a 
few gentle hints to your friends. Tell them 
you have lost your pin. They would be very 
stupid not to understand that it was their duty 
to replace it. Perhaps more than one will 
respond as becomes friends. You may have a 
half dozen pins in place of one.” 

“This cannot be replaced. It has belonged 
to our family for generations. The story is 
that one of the Loraines who were French, for 
political reasons, left his country and went to 
Brazil. While there, he discovered valuable 


132 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


mines. Selecting the finest gems, he returned 
to France and presented them to the king, and 
was immediately restored to favor. Two 
stones of the collection were pushed aside as 
not worthy so great a ruler. Tourie Loraine 
kept these for himself and had them made into 
rings. Later the rings were made into ear- 
rings. I think that was done by my great- 
grandfather as a gift to his bride. Grand- 
mother had twin daughters. Earrings were no 
longer in style and so the stones were made into 
brooches and set about with her hair. Each 
little girl was given one. My mother gave hers 
to me. The other which belonged to Aunt Har- 
riet disappeared years ago.” 

Erma laughed with delight. She loved ro- 
mance either in real life or between the pages 
of a book. 

“How perfectly lovely to have such glorious 
things happen in one’s family! Nothing like 
that ever happened in our family. My people 
did nothing more exciting than write charters 
and fight Indians. I think we were very com- 
monplace. It is the French people who have 
the romantic blood. Tell me some more, Helen. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 133 


You have no idea how interesting this is.” 

“There is little more to tell. After the 
stones had been in our family for several gen- 
erations, it was discovered by the merest ac- 
cident, that they were yellow diamonds and very 
valuable, on account of their size and purity. 
They were not really yellow, you know, but 
sometimes reflected a peculiar yellow light. 
We were sorry that we knew the value of 
them. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sorry ! I should think you would have been 
delighted. I can imagine nothing to be sorry 
for in finding that what you thought was a 
pretty little stone, was really worth a great 
deal of money.” 

“Because if it had been worthless, someone 
would never have been tempted as she was. 
My Aunt Harriet on one of her visits South 
years before, had found a little colored girl 
who was mistreated. She brought her North 
and gave her a home. She fed and clothed her 
and trained her to he an excellent servant. 
When she was able to work. Aunt Harriet paid 
her wages. She learned the value of Aunt Har- 
riet’s pins and rings. She disappeared and 


134 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


the jewels with her. There were a whole lot 
of complications which I cannot go into de- 
tail about. But it changed Aunt Harriet’s 
whole life. I remember Eosa so well. She was 
a beautiful girl. She did not look like a colored 
woman. She was scarcely darker than I am, 
and she had the most beautiful eyes and 
hands.” 

“And nothing has been heard of her?” 
Erma was eager to know. She could have sat 
there all day to listen and would have for- 
gone both meals and lessons. 

“Nothing. It was surely strange how such 
a thing could have happened and not be found 
sometime. It is not an easy matter for a 
woman to disappear and all traces of her be 
lost.” 

Hester had not been present during this con- 
versation. As Helen finished, her roommate 
came down the corridor and joined the two 
girls. 

“Helen has been telling me the most thrilling 
tales from her family history. It is worth 
writing to make a story. Don’t you know 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


135 


something, Hester? Didn’t your family do 
some wonderful things ? ” 

“No,” replied Hester. “The Aldens settled 
down in one place and remained there. As 
Aunt Debhy says, they fulfilled their duty to 
their church and to their neighbors, but noth- 
ing happened in their lives which was not 
prosaic.” 

“But your mother’s family,” persisted Erma. 
“Surely there must be something romantic on 
her side of the tree.” 

Hester smiled at the words. There was a 
little touch of sadness in her smile. She had 
never spoken to the girls of her people. They 
knew that she was an Alden. The name was 
well known in the central part of the State. 
They knew that an aunt had reared, her. That 
was all the knowledge that came to them. 
When other girls talked together of what their 
parents and grandparents had done as children 
and repeated the old-time stories, which had 
been handed down to them as part of their fam- 
ily history, Hester Alden had only listened and 
had taken no part in the recital. Now, she 


136 HESTEB’S COUNTEKPAET 


would have evaded Erma’s direct question, but 
Erma was not one who would permit her in- 
quiries to go by the board. She repeated it. 
Hester answered slowly. 

“When I was a year old I had neither father 
nor mother. My mother met a horrible death. 
Aunt Debby took me. She never could talk of 
my parents, so I know little of them. Aunt 
Debby is mother, father, sister, and brother to 
me.” 

“Oh, forgive me, I did not know. I would 
not have wounded you for the world.” 

Erma was on her feet. Impulsive, loving 
and quick to act, she put her hands on Hester’s 
shoulders and touched her lips warmly and af- 
fectionately. “But you have friends. I want 
to be one, Hester. You know I’ve always liked 
you and I’d love you if you’d give me half a 
chance.” 

Hester, who responded quickly to atfection, 
returned the embrace. “I’d love to have you 
for a friend. Aunt Debby is always first, for 
she is my friend, too, but you and Helen must 
be the next best.” 

The little flow of sentiment might have con- 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 137 


tinned, had not Renee at that moment, appeared 
in the doorway. 

“I’m awfully sorry to disturb you. But 
could you lend me your Solid Geometry, Helen ? 
Did you get that original? Have you really? 
Isn’t that lovely! Would you object to letting 
me look over it for a moment?” 

Helen took the book from the study-table and 
drawing out an original, handed it to Renee 
who, sitting down, began a thorough study of 
the problem she could not solve for herself. 

Barely was Renee disposed of than Jose- 
phine came in. She moved languidly. Her 
eyes were opened very wide, hut instead of bril- 
liance or alertness, they spoke of sentiment and 
dreaminess. Josephine had made a study of 
looking so. Soulful, she thought it to he; but 
the girls called it by another name not so com- 
plimentary and rallied her good-naturedly 
about it. 

Renee was quick, in action and thought. 
Josephine’s slowness annoyed her. Now, she 
took her eyes from the paper which she had 
been studying on, and cried brusquely, “If 
someone would only set a fire under you, you’d 


138 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


get somewhere sooner, Jo. Why don’t you 
move, when you move.” 

Jo was not annoyed. She moved not a whit 
faster. Gliding in, she seated herself on a 
shirt-waist box and assumed a pose of figure 
which she believed to be artistic. She showed 
no annoyance at Renee’s speech. She smiled 
sweetly and serenely. No matter what was 
said to her, or done in her presence, that smile 
came to her. Her placidity was exceedingly 
annoying to this set of girls. “If Jo was not 
always so sugary sweet,” was the general com- 
plaint. “If she would not always agree to 
everything. If only now and then she would 
express an opinion, one would know at least 
that she had formed one.” These were the 
only complaints ever made against her. 

“Has something been troubling you?” she 
asked Helen. “You appear quite disturbed.” 

“I am. I lost a pin.” Helen told how she 
had placed it that evening she had last worn 
it, and how it had mysteriously disappeared. 
Both Jo and Renee had seen the heirloom, for 
Helen had worn it at intervals since she had 
entered the hall. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 139 


“I’d advertise for it. You miglit have 
dropped it in the hall somewhere. Have 
Doctor Weldon announce it in chapel; and put 
a notice on the bulletin board in the main hall. ’ ’ 
It was Renee who made the practical sugges- 
tion. 

“I’m sure I did not lose it outside this room. 
I am quite sure of that.” 

“About as sure as one can be of anything. 
I’ve noticed, however, that being sure is no 
proof. ’ ’ 

“What a loss it must be to you!” cried Jo 
softly. ‘ ‘ Of course, the money value is of little 
consideration. It is the memories which cling 
to it which make it precious. I know how you 
feel about such matters. You have so much 
sentiment. I know what trifles may mean to 
one. I always wear this little chain. I have 
worn it since I was three years old. I never 
could bear to part with it. It seems a tie to 
bind me to my childhood. I feel as though I 
could never grow old while I wear it. I shall 
never take it off.” 

Renee shrugged her shoulders. “I’m glad 
you don’t have the same sentiment toward your 


140 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


collars. What a beautiful sentiment you might 
conjure up about a waist which some dear 
departed chum had embroidered for you; or 
perhaps she buttoned it up the back the first 
time you wore it and died immediately after- 
ward. I really think the last would he most 
touching. Then you would feel that you could 
never unbutton the buttons which her dear 
hands had buttoned.” 

The irony in Renee’s voice was strong. 
While she had been speaking, she arose and 
moved toward the door. 

Hester’s face had flushed. She feared that 
Josephine would be angry. Erma, however, 
laughed merrily, and smiled and fluttered about 
like a gay butterfly. She thought Renee’s sar- 
casm was the finest wit in the world. If it 
had been directed toward herself, she would not 
have cared at all, and could conceive of no rea- 
son why Jo should be hurt. 

Josephine raised her brows languidly and 
smiled sweetly. ‘‘Renee laughs at sentiment,” 
she said. “What is it that Shakespeare says 
about jesting at scars because you never felt 
a wound!” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 141 


“If I ever do show wounds,” cried Renee, 
“they will not be ones made by a tin soldier 
with a toy pistol. It will take a cannon ball 
to make me know that I’ve been touched,” 

She sailed out of the room, her head high 
and her heels coming down with some show of 
feeling. Erma burst into a fresh peal of laugh- 
ter. 

“Isn’t Renee dear and doesn’t she say the 
most brilliant things? I often wished I could 
be witty. All I can do is to laugh at the jokes 
which other girls make.” 

“Why wish to be witty?” asked Josephine. 
“You’re so sweet and womanly and tender.” 

“Am I all that?” cried Erma and she laughed 
again. “I must go and tell Marne. She has 
known me for years and has never suspected 
that I am all that.” 

She hurried away. Jo yet lingered. 

“I had a letter from Cousin Rob Vail,” said 
Helen to Hester. “He is coming down Sat- 
urday morning in the touring-car with Aunt 
Harriet and you and I are invited to take a 
ride and then have dinner down in the city. 
Aunt Harriet is disappointed that she has never 


142 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


been able to meet you. So be prepared to meet 
the sweetest woman in the world.” 

“Mrs. Vail is so sweet!” cried Jo. “I never 
look at her but there comes to my mind the 
picture of the ‘Mater Dolorosa,’ she’s so sad 
and pensive.” 

“She looks sad,” said Helen, “but I never 
knew livelier company. One cannot be dull 
with her. She has a sorrow which passes com- 
prehension, yet, she never worries another with 
it. She has trained herself to take an interest 
in others.” 

‘ ‘ Saturday ! ’ ’ Hester cried and began pranc- 
ing about the room. “Two days until Satur- 
day. I wonder how I shall ever be able to wait 
until then.” 

The bell for luncheon rang and the girls 
moved from the room. As they passed down 
the corridor, a number of the girls spoke to 
Helen about the loss of her pin and expressed 
the belief that it had only been mislaid and 
would be found. 

A number had seen and discussed it. Sara 
spoke of this. “It was so peculiar and unusual 
that anyone who finds it will know it is yours. ’ ’ 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 143 


Hester walked ahead without taking part in 
the conversation. It came to Helen then that 
her little roommate had shown no interest what- 
ever and had not assisted in the search or even 
expressed her sympathy for its loss. 


CHAPTER IX 


H ester was deep in literary work for the 
Philomathean paper. Ske was not at- 
tempting poetry. After Helen’s criticism she 
had not the heart to bring her efforts before 
the public, although she did write in secret. It 
is a long and hard drop from being a poet 
to a hack-writer scribbling down personals. 
Poets are born, while any one can write per- 
sonals. 

Hester had been cultivating the unpleasant 
little mannerism of thinking aloud or rather 
in tones under her breath, as she wrote she 
read. Her efforts resulted in this form. 

“ ‘Miss Erma Thomas has been excused from 
classes on account of sustaining a sprained 
ankle.’ 

“ ‘Sustain.’ I wonder if that is the right 
word. Sustain a sprain. It sounds all right. 
I’ll let it be that. If I don’t know, the other 
girls will not know either.” 

144 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 145 


“Hester, do you realize that you are think- 
ing aloud?” asked Helen after this performance 
had continued some minutes. 

“Am I? I did not know; but it does not 
matter. What I am saying is not private and 
it makes no difference if all the world hears.” 

“That is not the idea,” said Helen. She 
was sweet, calm, and decided. “Has it not 
come to you that I might wish to study and that 
monotone is anything but pleasant?” 

Hester’s face flushed crimson. “I beg par- 
don. I was selflsh, Helen.” 

Helen crossed the room and bending over 
the abashed, confused Hester, said tenderly, 
“Do not mind my speaking so, little roommate. 
If it were Aunt Debby you would not take it 
so to heart. Then why should it hurt from me ? 
Boarding-schools and roommates serve one 
great purpose — they rub off the jagged edges 
of one’s manners.” She bent and kissed the 
girl. 

“Helen Loraine, you are the dearest girl 
I know. I am so glad I have you for a room- 
mate. We have never quarreled and I hope 
never will.” 


146 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


“No, we never will,” said Helen. She went 
back to her work. 

In addition to her literary efforts, Hester 
had other claims upon her. The Christmas 
season was approaching and her gifts were 
barely in preparation. She was embroidering 
a set of linen collars and cuffs for Helen, and 
the efforts to keep the work hidden was making 
life strenuous for her. 

Whenever Helen left the room, Hester took 
up the work, took a few stitches and perhaps 
was compelled to put it away. There were 
many people passing up and down the dormi- 
tory halls. It was not always possible to dis- 
tinguish Helen’s step. Then she had to re- 
sort to subterfuge to get the measure of 
Helen’s collar. She had not accomplished that 
yet, hut she had her plans laid and meant to 
carry them out at the first opportunity. 

It came to her sooner than she expected. 
Saturday morning, after a few minutes’ study, 
Helen looked at the time, and arose from her 
work. 

“It is almost ten o’clock. Aunt Harriet and 
Cousin Eobert should be here. I think I’ll walk 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 147 


down to the guests’ entrance and see if I can 
find any trace of them. Rob would not be 
permitted to come to the dormitory. Perhaps, 
Aunt Harriet is waiting with him in the recep- 
tion hall. Marshall may have been sent for 
us, but you know his failing. He may be ful- 
filling a half-dozen commissions before he 
comes for us. If they are not there, I shall 
telephone to Auntie.” 

Hester urged her to be gone. It was with 
a feeling of relief that Hester heard the click 
of Helen’s high heels as they went down the 
hall. Waiting until she believed that Helen 
would not be interrupted, Hester hurried to 
the wardrobe which they had in common and 
taking down a waist began to measure the col- 
lar. She had just completed this when she 
heard the click of Helen’s heels. Quick as a 
flash the dress was hung up. Hester was about 
to close the door when the dress caught. She 
was fussing over it and was very red in the 
face and visibly embarrassed when Helen en- 
tered the room. 

“What is the trouble?” Helen asked. 

“Nothing at all,” was the reply given with 


148 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


unusual curtness. “What should make you 
think there was any trouble ? I was just open- 
ing the wardrobe door.” 

Her long speech which was wholly unneces- 
sary and her evident embarrassment did not 
pass unobserved. Helen gave her a quick look. 
Hester was not herself, that was evident. 

“I asked the question because your face was 
red, and you appeared excited. That was all. 
I did not find it necessary to go to the guests’ 
entrance. Marshall was coming for us. We 
are to go to the reception hall. You will meet 
Aunt Harriet at last.” 

‘ ‘ How strange it seems that I have been here 
almost four months and yet we have not met! 
She always came when I was home with Aunt 
Debby, or in class. I fancy the Fates do not 
intend that we shall meet.” 

“You shall meet in two minutes, or I am not 
a reliable prophet,” was Helen’s reply. 

Two minutes proved that she was not. Rob- 
ert Vail alone awaited them in the reception 
hall. His mother had not been able to come. 

Hester gave a start of surprise when Helen 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 149 


presented the cousin to her. He was partic- 
ularly fine-looking and attractive but she was 
not startled at that. He was the young man 
who had accosted her that day on the street 
and apologized by saying he had mistaken her 
for his cousin, Helen. 

“You remember me, I see, Miss Alden. You 
must have thought I was rude, but I was con- 
fident that you were Helen. I had not seen her 
for three months.” 

“I am glad that I met you so that I can ex- 
plain to Aunt Debby,” said Hester naively. 
Then observing his look of surprise, she added, 
“She would not believe that you had really 
made a mistake. She thought you did it just 
to annoy me.” 

“How could she?” cried Helen with a show 
of feeling. “Cousin Rob — .” 

“Go slowly. Cousin, ’ ’ laughed the young man. 
“You must remember that I was a stranger to 
Miss Alden and her aunt. They were fully 
justified in believing that I was rude.” 

“I did not,” said Hester. “I saw you and 
I knew that you had really mistaken me. ’ ’ 


150 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“How could your Aunt Debby think of such 
a thing? Didn’t she also see Rob?” asked 
Helen. 

“I did not believe you could show such a 
spirit,” laughed Hester. “You are always so 
calm. ’ ’ 

“When things touch myself, but not when 
they touch my friends,” said Helen. 

“Please calm yourself, Helen. You know we 
made a compact this very morning and prom- 
ised never to quarrel or be angry with each 
other.” 

“The same old school-girl fashion,” said 
Robert Vail. “If I am a good prophet, you’ll 
be tearing each other’s hair before the day is 
over.” 

“Why did Aunt Harriet not come?” asked 
Helen, abruptly changing the subject of con- 
versation. 

“She went on a little trip into Virginia,” he 
replied. Then observing the anxious look 
which came to Helen’s face, he continued, “We 
tried to persuade her not to go, but she said 
this might be a real clue and she could not be 
satisfied to remain home. Father would have 



f •: if . 


You REMEMBER ME, I SEE, Miss Alden.” — Faye 149 



HESTER’S COUNTERPART 151 


insisted, for mother is really worn out, but she 
was so anxious to go that she and father went 
off last night.” 

“Was there anything new, or merely the 
same old story as before?” asked Helen. 

“Who can tell? You know Rosa’s mother 
had been a house-servant in Virginia and Rosa 
had a host of relatives there. Mrs. Mader — 
you remember the Doctor Mader who some- 
times attends mother? Well, Mrs. Mader had 
been West. There she made the acquaintance 
of a southern woman who talked much of a Rosa 
Williams, who did some work for her. Mrs. 
Mader was interested and asked all sorts of 
questions. This Rosa Williams, so the south- 
ern woman said, was a handsome mulatto 
woman about forty years old. She also said 
that she had several children and that one in 
particular had neither the features nor coloring 
of a negro.” 

“Poor Aunt Harriet!” said Helen. “If 
only she would give up hope. She is wearing 
herself out in this way.” 

Hester was delighted with this new acquaint- 
ance. She had known few boys. Jane Orr’s 


152 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


brother, Ralph, had been her ideal of what a 
boy should be. Jane had not let his good qual- 
ities pass unnoticed. But Hester was inclined 
to think that Robert Vail surpassed Ralph in 
every particular. Helen had told her much of 
this one cousin who took the place of brother 
to her. He was in his last year in medical col- 
lege, and had led his class for three full years. 
Yet he was not a bookish man. He was of a 
social nature, fond of company, and outdoor 
life, taking as much interest in cross-country 
walks and athletics as he did in his studies. 
Hester was thinking of these matters while 
Helen and Robert were talking. She had been 
sitting with her eyes upon the floor, listening 
in a half abstracted fashion. She raised her 
eyes suddenly to find Robert Vail’s eyes fixed 
on her in scrutiny. Her cheeks grew crimson 
and she looked away. 

“I beg pardon,” cried the young man, “I 
seem destined to annoy you with my rudeness. 
The first time I met you I mistook you for 
Helen. The resemblance is not so marked now 
that I see you together. ’ ’ 

‘^Yet we are often mistaken for each other,” 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 153 


said Helen, “if the hall is just a little dark, 
the girls mistake us. Often I am called Hes- 
ter.” 

“It would have to be very dark if I were to 
mistake you now after once seeing you to- 
gether. 

“I wish to explain to Miss Alden why I was 
looking so intently at her now. I’ve seen my 
mother sitting that way many a time. There 
was something about you which made me think 
of her.” 

“You told me she was very beautiful,” said 
Hester, saucily turning toward Helen. 

“Hester Alden, are you really fishing for 
compliments?” asked Helen, pretending to be 
shocked at Hester’s question. 

“There is really no use of fishing when the 
compliments are floating on the surface within 
your reach,” said the young man gallantly. 

This was all very pleasing to Hester. She 
had not been accustomed to receiving such com- 
pliments or attention and she felt quite grown 
up and elegant. 

Robert Vail’s gallant manner was of short 
duration. He looked at Hester again, and grew 


154 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


quite serious. Very strange ideas came to him. 
He had a queer feeling that somehow his 
mother had made a mistake in not calling at 
the seminary that morning, and that he stood 
nearer the truth than he had ever stood before. 
These thoughts prompted him to turn to Hes- 
ter with questions which were pertinent and 
personal. 

“Where do you live, Miss Alden?” Hester 
told him. She wondered as she did so why he 
had asked the question as though it were of mo- 
ment. 

“Who are your people? Have you always 
lived there?” 

He had touched Hester on the one delicate 
subject of her life. She had pride enough for 
several girls. Not even Aunt Debby knew how 
her lack of parentage and name had hurt her. 
She had never permitted herself to think of it, 
lest she should grow depressed and unhappy. 
And to think that now this Robert Vail whom 
she had liked so much, had presumed to ques- 
tion her. Like a flash, it came to her that per- 
haps he had met Kate Bowerman or Abner 
Stout and they had told him that she had been 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 155 


left a waif on Debby Alden’s bands and that her 
people had cared so little for her that they 
never came to find her. 

For an instant, pride was up in arms. Her 
one thought was to defend herself at whatever 
cost. All Aunt Debby ’s precious training was 
flung to the winds. She raised her head 
proudly and looked directly at him. In her 
eyes was a look of defiance ; the crimson of an- 
noyance and shame flamed on her cheeks. 

“Who are my people?” she repeated his 
question. “As my name is Alden, I presume 
my people also were of that name. My father 
and mother died when I was a babe, and my 
father’s sister, my Aunt Debby Alden reared 
me.” 

Her annoyance was evident. Robert Vail 
was vexed with himself for having caused it. 
“I am always falling into error. Miss Alden. 
If you forgive me this once more, I shall prom- 
ise not to annoy you again. I fancy my ques- 
tion was personal. I asked it because of the 
resemblance to my mother and cousin. It came 
to me that you might be a relative. Though I 
doubt if you would wish to claim us. We are 


156 HESTEE’S COUNTEBPAET 


a bad lot. I am really the only fair specimen 
among them.” 

“Such insufferable conceit,” said Helen. 
“Everyone knows that it keeps all the other 
members of the family taking care of you.” 

“Which proves what I have just said. I am 
the family jewel. It behooves them to take 
care of me, lest I be lost or stolen.” Turning 
to Hester, he held out his hand. “Am I for- 
given?” he asked. 

Hester, ashamed and abashed, laid her hand 
within his. “I am sorry I spoke so hastily,” 
she said. But the red did not leave her cheeks, 
nor the hurt look from her eyes. She blushed 
for the statement she had made. “ ‘My father 
was Aunt Debby’s brother.’ It was a lie — 
nothing less than a lie,” she kept saying to her- 
self and the thought spoiled the entire day for 
her. It spoiled more than that, too. Perhaps, 
had she told the truth, she would never again 
have need to blush for her lack of name or to 
misunderstand her people for not coming in 
search for her. Her little sin bore its own 
fruits with it ; yet Hester believed she was pay- 
ing the debt by being sorry and ashamed. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 157 


“About your going with me/’ Robert turned 
to bis cousin. “Mother said I was to play 
escort and take you anywhere you wished to 
go.” 

“Aunt Harriet’s not coming may make a 
difference. The preceptress gave me permis- 
sion to go with the understanding that we were 
in your mother’s charge.” 

“I shall take as good care of you as mother. 
Better care, I fancy, for she would be helpless 
if she had to manage a machine.” 

“It is the idea of not living up to the condi- 
tions,” replied Helen. “If you and Hester 
will excuse me, I will explain to Miss Burkham. 
Perhaps, she will not object to my going with 
you. She would if you were not a cousin.” 

She went directly to the preceptress and in 
a few moments returned with that lady her- 
self, who listened to the story of the difficulties. 

“We intended stopping to see Aunt Dehby,” 
said Hester. “I wrote her a note yesterday, 
telling her to expect us.” 

“You may go under these conditions,” said 
Miss Burkham, “that you go directly to Miss 
Alden’s aunt’s. If she can accompany you 


158 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


further, very well. Otherwise you remain at 
her home until you are ready to return to 
school. Under any circumstances you must he 
here before five o ’clock. Be kind enough to set 
your timepieces with the tower clock. Then 
there will be no excuse for not being here on or 
before the hour appointed. You may get your 
wraps. I shall entertain Mr. Vail until your 
return.” 

Miss Burkham was always exacting. Her 
speech was frank and sometimes even blunt; 
but she had such a sense of justice and fitness 
of things, that her decisive words were never 
galling, even to the most sensitive of the girls. 
Her manner was gracious and her smile kindly. 
She would put herself to no end of trouble to 
add to the happiness of the pupils ; on the other 
hand, she would go to no end of trouble to see 
that the rules of the school were rigidly en- 
forced and that the girls under her care would 
do nothing unbecoming a lady or which might 
bring criticism upon their heads. 

Soon the three were on their way. For three 
days, Hester Alden had enjoyed the ride in 
anticipation. But now something had gone 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


159 


from it. The buoyancy of spirit which was 
generally hers and the power of enjoying the 
most trifling affairs had deserted her. She sat 
silent until Helen rallied her. Then she made 
an etfort to he her usual bright talkative self ; 
but it was plainly an effort. She was forcing 
an interest in what was going on about her. 
Her mind dwelt only on the statement she had 
made to Robert Vail. 

“It was a lie, a lie,” she kept repeating to 
herself. She was almost afraid to meet Aunt 
Debby. How Aunt Debby despised anything of 
that kind ! Hester felt that her clear gray eyes 
would look straight down into her heart and 
read the lie which had made a mark there. 

Robert Vail observed that Hester was more 
than quiet. She was depressed and anxious. 

Debby Alden was prepared to receive the 
guests. She, with Miss Richards, had a lunch 
ready to serve. She had smiled when she ar- 
ranged her table service. She had given it the 
right touch of daintiness and refinement. 
There had come to her, the remembrance of 
certain conditions of her life and her manner 
of doing things before Hester had come into 


160 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


her life. She had spoken her thoughts to Miss 
Richards. 

“I have been a different woman ever since 
I found Hester,” she said. “Life holds so 
much more for me than it did before — a great 
deal more than I ever hoped to have it hold. 
I wonder what I would have been had Hester 
gone her way that day and not have come into 
my life.” 

“You would have been Debby Alden,” said 
Miss Richards, “a woman of conscience and 
principle. You would have been the same 
Debby — only with the narrower view of life. 
You would have been an old woman instead 
of a bright, interesting, beautiful, young girl of 
forty.” 

Debby Alden had blushed at the speech. 

“You and Hester have conspired to spoil me. 
I think you are leagued together to make me 
vain and worldly. What one does not think of, 
the other does. It was only last week that Hes- 
ter wrote me some very silly nonsense about 
not one of the women at the reception, looking 
half so fine as I. Of course, I know the child 
does it merely to please me.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 161 


Miss Richards nodded her head in negation. 
“You know she means every word she says, 
Debby. Hester could not prevaricate, even to 
please you. As to its being nonsense, you know 
it is not. We think what we say and you like 
to hear us say it. Why not express ourselves! 
There is nothing in the world that is as great 
as love. The greatest thing in the world! 
Why then should we go through life with silent 
lips, or lips which open only for criticism while 
all the time love is really in our hearts? Is it 
not lovelier and kinder to express our love 
while the loved ones are here to listen?” 

This had been Miss Richards’s philosophy of 
life. It had been her love as well as Hester’s 
which had brightened and developed Debby 
Alden. Their words concerning Debby ’s being 
beautiful were not flattering. She was beauti- 
ful with the beauty which comes from flne prin- 
ciple, high ideals, and a warm, love-filled heart. 
People had turned in the streets for a second 
look at Debby Alden, while she, wholly uncon- 
cious that she had grown so attractive, moved 
on her way without knowing of the eyes turned 
in her direction. 


162 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


Debby went down to the gate to meet her 
guests. She took Hester in her arms. In an 
instant her intuition told her that something 
was wrong. 

“What is troubling my little girl?” she 
asked. 

“Nothing, Aunt Debby. Nothing at all. Oh, 
how sweet to be back home!” She threw her 
arms about Debby Alden’s neck and hugged her 
with a vehemence which caused that lady to 
gasp for breath. 

Helen and Miss Alden had never met. Debby 
at once noticed the resemblance between Helen 
and Hester. She greeted the former as she 
had done her own little girl. Then she turned 
to Eobert Vail and holding out her hand, said 
merrily, “I shall forgive and believe now, since 
I know you have a cousin Helen arid she does 
resemble Hester. Until this time, I thought it 
all a myth of your own making, manufactured 
for the sole purpose of annoying two plain 
country folk.” 

Eob Vail laughed as he took her hand in his 
own firm clasp. “I do not know whether I 
shall allow myself to be forgiven under such 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 163 


circumstances. You ■would not have faith in 
me until I presented the proof and that is really 
no faith at all. I wish to he trusted without 
evidence.” 

He laughed again and held Miss Debby’s 
hand tight in his o'wn while they moved up the 
walk toward the tiny cottage. 

“Prom this time, I shall have faith in you, 
though evidence is lacking,” she said. 

She liked the hoy. She had never before 
been so pleasantly impressed by a young man 
as she had been by him. He was wholesome, 
clear-eyed and unatfected. 

Debby Alden recognized these virtues in him 
and received him at once into her home and 
friendship. She liked his college talk; his 
bright way of making his smile and voice put 
his words at fault. Yet, while he entertained 
her she was not wholly unconscious of two 
things — that Hester was not herself, and that 
the resemblance between the two girls was not 
the result of mere chance. Suddenly she 
turned to Helen with the question : 

“Have you any sisters? Did you ever have 


164 HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


“No, unfortunately, I am an only child,” was 
the reply. 

“Which may account for any peculiar little 
'traits of character or manner,” said Robert 
Vail. “Only a brother or sister is able to 
‘comb one’ thoroughly smooth. They trim the 
plant of self-esteem ; they nip the bud of 
selfishness before it can bloom; they serve 
their purpose, nuisances though they are — these 
brothers and sisters.” 

“How unfortunate that you never had any. 
You might have been — ” Helen left the sen- 
tence imfinished, implying by her tone that he 
might have been all that he was not. 

“But you served the same purpose, cousin. 
You have never failed in your duty toward me. 
You are worth a dozen brothers and sisters 
when it comes to ‘combing one down.’ ” They 
laughed at the sally and might have carried it 
further had not Miss Alden led the way to the 
lunch table. 


CHAPTER X 


H ester ALDEN barely escaped being 
campused for dancing ber way through 
the main hall and shrieking in wild excess of 
spirits. To add to the enormity of the offense, 
the day on which this had occurred was the day 
when the ice-cream wagon came in from Flem- 
ington and disposed of its wares at the front 
entrance of the campus. At the time of her 
exhibition of high spirits, Hester had held high 
in her hand a paper butter-dish filled with 
cream, which had melted and was trickling over 
the edge of the dish and down her sleeve. The 
German teacher had heard the unusual commo- 
tion and appeared on the scene. 

“Ach, Fraulein Alden, what matters it by 
you? To your room go you at once. To 
Miss Burkham, I such conduct shall report.” 

Hester in the exuberance of spirit, hugged 
the little German lady who was as fat as a 
165 


166 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


dumpling. “Frauleiu Franz, you are a dear 
old soul if you do get your English verbs con- 
fused. You would dance and laugh and spill 
your ice-cream too, if you were to play on the 
scrub team. ’ ’ 

“Gra-shus,” said Fraulein. “Pardon me, I 
did not know the cause. I wonder not that 
you much rejoice.” 

She retired to her room. Hester laughed 
again, but softly this time for Miss Burkham’s 
office was not a great distance away. 

“The dear old Fraulein! To thiuk of her 
begging my pardon for reprimanding me. I 
am only too glad it was not Miss Burkham. If 
she had seen me, I’d had two weeks on the 
campus and someone else would have been com- 
pelled to carry my cream from the wagon to 
the coping.” 

The other east dormitory girls had heard the 
news and were quite as well pleased as Hester. 
Marne Cross had been forbidden by her father 
to play any but practice games. He thought 
she grew too excited for her own good. It was 
her place on the second squad which Hester 
was to fill. 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 167 

Helen had used her influence in behalf of her 
roommate; for there were ten other players 
who would have been as well pleased as Hester 
was, had it fallen to their lot to substitute. 
Fortunately they were a liberal, broad-minded 
set of girls. They were not envious, hut re- 
joiced with Hester in her good fortune. 

As Hester hurried down the main hall to 
the dormitory stairs, she found her own par- 
ticular set of friends waiting for her on the 
landing. 

‘ ‘ Here she is ! ” cried Erma. “We have been 
looking everywhere for you. Isn’t it simply 
grand to think that one of our set got on?” 

“I’m glad you’ve got it, since I couldn’t,” 
said Marne. She had always the expression of 
one on whom Fortune had frowned. On the 
contrary, she had fairly basked in that lady’s 
smiles, since the first day of her babyhood. 

“I don’t see why father will not let me play. 
There’s no danger of my hurting myself, and 
what if I should? He has an idea that I am 
such a precious article that I should be done 
up in cotton. One thing, Hester, if you play 
a match game, you’ll look better than I do. 


168 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


My basket-ball suit was a fright; but then, I 
never do have anything that looks like other 
girls. ’ ’ 

Hester was about to express herself contrary 
to this sentiment, when an audacious remark 
from Erma caused her to fall back in silence. 

“You see how it is, Hester,” explained Erma 
later as the two walked arm in arm down the 
hall. “Marne is the best dresser in school. 
She has the best-made clothes and the best 
taste about choosing them, and you never see 
a pin or hook loose. Yet we never yet have 
heard her say she was satisfied. So we just 
concluded that we wouldn’t encourage her. 
When she begins to complain and find fault with 
her lot, we’d look as though we pitied her. It 
isn’t a bit of use of trying to convince her how 
lucky she is. 

“Now, I am always the other way.” Here 
Erma paused long enough to laugh merrily. 
“I’m satisfied with everything. My father is 
simply grand; I just adore this old seminary, 
and I think the girls on our hall are the sweet- 
est things, and I never had a dress in all my 
life that wasn’t simply a dream.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 169 


The girls rejoiced with Hester, all except 
Berenice. She went through with the form 
of congratulations, but her voice had a sarcas- 
tic touch and her eyes had narrowed them- 
selves into mere slits. Her words were a little 
uncertain as to meaning; but Hester to whom 
all things appeared beautiful, was in no mood 
to take exception. 

“I’m sure I’m glad you’re on the scrub,” 
she said slowly. “I’m always glad to see 
people get what they work so hard for.” 

“Thank you, Berenice. You girls have all 
been lovely. You do not have a bit of jealousy 
about letting a ‘freshie’ step in ahead of some 
who have been here two and three years.” 

“We want to win games,” cried Louise Reed. 
“Whoever makes goals for us, suits us whether 
she’s a freshman or a senior. Get the pennant 
and we’ll carry you home on our shoulders.” 

They had come to Sixty-two. Erma and 
Marne in company with Berenice walked on 
down the corridor. 

“I’d love to have been put on; but since I 
wasn’t I am glad that Hester was. It was fair, 
too. She’s played better than any other one 


170 HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


on the team. She gets excited but she doesn’t 
lose her head.” 

Berenice sneered. “To get on the team, one 
must learn to toady,” she said. “No doubt if 
you had played lackey to Helen Loraine, you 
would have been playing scrub.” 

Erma turned suddenly to look at the speaker. 
There was no laughter now in either her eyes 
or voice as she, gazing steadily at Berenice, 
asked, “Do you mean to say that Hester Alden 
plays lackey to Helen? Do you mean to say 
that Helen would permit it if Hester were 
foolish enough to do so, and furthermore do 
you mean to say that Hester was not chosen 
for the simple reason that she is the steadiest 
player among the substitutes?” 

Berenice shrugged her shoulders. Her little 
beady eyes had their lashes drawn down upon 
them until they had narrowed into a mere slit. 

“How you do fly up, Erma ! I really did not 
think you had such a temper; but one thing 
you may rest assured of : it is always you sweet 
girls who fly into a passion at the slightest 
word. ’ ’ 

“I have never posed as being a sweet girl. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 171 


and I am not in a passion now. I have asked 
you a question which you have evaded. You 
have insinuated things about girls who call me 
their friend and I will never let such matters 
pass. I wish you to answer my question be- 
fore we go one step further.” 

Erma stood still. The others did as she did. 
Berenice laughed lightly. “How very silly. 
A perfect tempest in a tea-cup simply because 
I choose to get off a joke.” 

“If that is a joke, it is in horribly bad taste,” 
was Erma’s retort. 

“You are imjust, Erma. How many times 
have I heard you laugh at Helen for trying 
to stand in with the teachers, and for letting 
Marne copy her translations.” 

“Hundreds of times, but you always heard 
me laugh and jest when the girls themselves 
were present and when every one who heard, 
knew that it was mere fun. It was mere give 
and take between every one of our set who were 
present. You have yet to hear me criticise 
an absent girl, or jest about her.” 

Again Berenice shrugged her shoulders as 
though she would dismiss the subject. 


172 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“I am glad I am not ugly -tempered, ” she 
said and walked away without a backward 
glance at the others. For a moment, Erma was 
woimded. Then the humor of the situation 
came to her. She laughed until the silvery 
echoes rang from one end of the corridor to 
the other ; and the girls begged to be quiet lest 
the hall-teacher follow in their footsteps and 
they be sentenced to solitary confinement on 
the campus. 

After receiving the congratulations of her 
friends, Hester had gone to her room. Helen 
was busy preparing a lesson for the session the 
following morning. 

“Of course, you know what has happened,” 
cried Hester. “Of course you do. I can see 
by your eyes. Miss Watson sent for me to 
come to her and then told me. I knew who 
proposed my name. It was you, Helen Lo- 
raine. I cannot possibly thank you, and I never 
in the world can repay you.” 

Flinging her arms about her roommate’s 
neck, Hester embraced her warmly all the while 
declaring that she would never be able to repay 
her. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


173 


“Yes, you surely can,” said Helen. “Play 
a good game and justify my recommending you. 
That will please me best of all.” 

“I shall do that for your sake, for my own, 
and for the team’s.” 

Helen stood silent a moment, considering 
whether she had better tell Hester all her 
plans. She decided that she would and draw- 
ing Hester down on the cosy corner, which had 
been improvised from trunks, she continued: 
“For several reasons you must play well the 
next two weeks. Three weeks from next Sat- 
urday, we play the girls from Exeter Hall. 
They are the hardest squad we’ll meet. Their 
coach is a college woman and a specialist in 
physical culture and athletics. The Exeter 
team is the best-trained one we’ll come up 
against. We’ll take along four substitutes. 
Maud plays well for the first half, hut she tires 
easily. I intend to substitute for her on the 
second half, and if you justify my doing it, 
I’ll let you take her place.” 

“Eeallyl” That one word was all that Hes- 
ter Alden could command at that moment; hut 
it spoke volumes. To the girl it seemed as 


174 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


though the one ambition of her school life was 
about to be fulfilled — to play on the first team. 

She did not consider herself alone in this. 
Aunt Debby was always first in her thoughts. 
Ever since Mary Bowerman had taunted her 
with being a waif, Hester had realized how 
much the foster aunt had done for her, and 
what sacrifice of time and money, she had 
made. The one way which Hester saw to re- 
pay the obligation, was to do those things 
which would reflect credit on the Alden name. 
Playing on the first team would do that very 
thing for never before in the history of Dickin- 
son, had a freshman been so honored. 

Hester had reached such a degree of happi- 
ness that she lacked expression either by words 
or motion. She could but sit still in the cosy 
corner, her hands clasped in her lap and her 
eyes looking steadily before her. So she sat 
for some minutes but in those minutes, she 
anticipated every play in the coming game. 
She saw the goals she would make; she could 
hear the referee call out the score and read 
the figures which the score makers were writ- 
ing down. She could see Aunt Debby sitting 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 175 


in the gallery; she could hear the applause 
which swept over the hall. 

“Really? Do you really think there is the 
least chance for me?” she asked at last. 

“I really think so. I might say I am quite 
sure,” replied Helen. “Miss Watson always 
permits me to choose my substitutes. I would 
almost promise but — ” 

“Don’t promise. I would not have you do 
that. During the next two weeks I might lose 
my head and not play well at all,” she said. 

“I’m not afraid of that,” replied Helen. 
“But it does not seem fair to the other girls 
to have me pledge myself to you, before you 
have had a single practice on the scrub. I try 
to be just, but sometimes I am afraid I am a 
little partial in choosing the ones I love best. 
Because you are you, I might be unjust to the 
others. Do you understand why I would 
rather not promise, little roommate?” 

“Yes, I know.” 

The subject ended there. Helen went back 
to her work. Hester tried to keep her mind 
upon her books; but one might as well have 
tried to charm a butterfly. Her thoughts flew 


176 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


from the game to Aunt Debby, and back to 
Helen and the attitude she bad taken in regard 
to the game. 

Hester bad no doubt that Helen bad a great 
affection for her. There bad been some sweet 
and gentle evidence of it since the first week 
of school. Hester was beginning to under- 
stand what the girls bad tried to convey to her 
that first day of school, when Sara bad de- 
clared that Helen bad such an air. It was the 
grace which was the expression of fine breed- 
ing, intellect and kindliness of heart. 

As Hester thought of these things, she could 
have gone down on her knees to Helen just 
as she would have done to Aunt Debby. 

“WeTl be friends all our life. Whatever 
happens, we will never quarrel. It is lovely 
to have a friend like Helen.” These were the 
thoughts which came to Hester. Inspired by 
them to express herself, she opened a note- 
book and under the date of the month and year, 
she wrote what had been in her thoughts. 

Helen was one who had much affection in her 
nature, but was never sentimental. She was 
intensely practical when it came to her work. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 177 


After her talk with Hester about the work on 
the team, her mind turned to the petty details, 
the fulfillment of which meant success. 

“I wear my gray basket-ball suit when we 
play with an outside team,” she said to Hester. 
“You have never seen it. It has D. S. in gold 
and blue letters. Dickinson Seminary. It 
looks well, and the suits are really pretty. 
Mine, however, is beginning to show wear. I 
have had it for three years. The last time we 
played over at Kermoor, a hook came loose on 
the shoulder where my waist fastens. It was 
a trifle but it almost caused me to lose that 
game. It pestered me until I could scarcely 
think of anything else. I made up my mind 
then that I’d never be placed in such a position 
again. While I have it in mind, I am going 
over those hooks and eyes and sew them so 
tight that they cannot possibly give.” 

“Why not come out on the campus now, 
Helen? The girls are going to walk along the 
river’s edge as far as the campus reaches and 
then climb over the hill and come back the 
other way. Miss Watson will come with us.” 

“If I do I’ll neglect those hooks. I had my 


178 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


gym work to-day and do not need exercise. 
You run along and I’ll discipline myself about 
the hooks.” She laughed softly at her own 
remarks. 

“Very well. If you will not, you will not,” 
replied Hester, drawing on her red sweater and 
Tam-o-Shanter. “I’ll be off or I’ll keep them 
waiting, and you know Miss Watson does not 
approve of that.” 

She went her way down the hall. She was 
a picture good to look at, and which would 
have pleased more eyes than the partial ones 
of Debby Alden. 

Upon Hester’s departure, Helen went to her 
sewing. The gray gymnasium suit hung in a 
public press at the end of the hall, and it took 
her some time to find her own among the others 
which hung there. Her needles and thread 
were at hand, but hooks and eyes were lacking. 
She found that the waist required several ad- 
ditional hooks and what were in place hung by 
a mere thread. 

“I have a card of hooks somewhere,” she 
said to herself. “I remember distinctly put- 
ting in everything in the line of mending that 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 179 


I might possibly need. I remember now. 
Wbat I thought I would not need often, I put 
in the bottom of the closet. ” 

The closet floor held quite an assortment of 
boxes. Articles which the girls used seldom, 
had been stored here out of the way. Helen 
remembered that a box with hooks and eyes, 
buttons and glove-silk had been placed in there, 
early in the fall when she had unpacked the 
trunk. 

She and Hester had been careful about not 
infringing upon each other’s closet room. 
Each had her allotted space and number of 
hooks; but keeping the floor divided was not 
so easy. Boxes had been moved and shoved 
about until it was impossible to know whose 
they were. 

Helen sat down on the floor and began a 
systematic search; in turn opening each box 
and examining its contents. It required sys- 
tem for the boxes were many and the confusion 
great. There were handkerchief boxes, spool, 
candy, and shoe boxes of all sizes and condi- 
tions. 

She had opened each one without discover- 


180 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


ing the articles which she needed. She was 
about to put them back in their places when a 
little dark covered box, hidden deep in the 
corner, attracted her eyes. Without a thought 
that she might be infringing on someone’s else 
right, she took up the box and opened it. She 
gave a sharp exclamation at the sight of its 
contents. She sat with it opened in her hand, 
looking at it steadily. Then she replaced the 
lid and put the box with the contents just as 
she had found them, back in the corner. She 
put the floor of the closet in order, and then 
went back to her work. She found her card of 
hooks and eyes in the bottom of her sewing- 
bag. She was busy sewing them on when Hes- 
ter came in. They greeted each other as usual, 
yet Hester was conscious that something was 
different. 

“Are you ill, Helen?” she asked. 

“No, Hester.” 

“Are you worried?” 

“What should I have to worry me? You 
have been gone less than an hour. What 
should happen in that time to make me either 
ill or anxious? I have been putting the floor 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 181 


of the closet in order. I am afraid I opened 
some of your boxes, but I did not disturb their 
contents.” 

“No matter if you did. I am glad the closet 
is in order. It surely needed some attention. ’ ’ 
Going to the door she flung it wide. “How 
nice it looks. The boxes piled up like a shoe- 
store. I wonder how long it will remain that 
way.” 

Helen watched her closely. Hester must in- 
deed be a capital actor, for she had showed 
neither anxiety nor embarrassment at hearing 
that Helen had opened the boxes. 

After dirmer that evening, no conversations 
were carried on between the two girls. Helen, 
contrary to her habit, went directly to her 
room and did not mingle with her friends in 
the library or parlor. She was in her study 
garb and presumably deep in study when Hes- 
ter came back to her room. She neither spoke 
nor raised her eyes at Hester’s entrance. 
Her eyes were upon the text, but she was not 
studying. She was reviewing certain little in- 
cidents of Hester’s being with her. A score 
of trifles to which she had then given no 


182 HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


thought, now appeared in gigantic proportion 
with most pretentious signs. Hester had 
shown no interest whatever when the pin had 
been lost. She had not helped look for it. 
Just before the holidays, Helen remembered 
it clearly now, she had found Hester in the 
closet. Hester had blushed and stammered 
and appeared much confused and had replied 
curtly to Helen’s questions. It was really very 
suspicious. Helen did not like to think of such 
matters. She had no desire to think evil of 
any one; but the evidence was there. She 
could not go past that. She had trusted Hes- 
ter, and had really loved her. Hereafter she 
would trust and love no one. 

Even after the close of the study hour, there 
was no opportunity for conversation; for at 
the ringing of the half-hour bell, Helen, con- 
trary to her habit, went down the hall to the 
room of one of the seniors. She did not ask 
Hester to accompany her and the latter was 
hurt by the omission. They had been together 
almost six months and in that time such a thing 
had never before occurred. 

Hester slowly made ready for bed. The 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 183 


fumes of chocolate and fudge in the making 
were wafted to her from the rooms at the lower 
end of the hall, and the chatter and laugh came 
with them. No one called her to come. She 
felt forsaken and lonely. Such occasions pre- 
vious to this, she had not waited until a special 
invitation had been given her, but joined and 
helped with the merry-making. She felt that 
something stood between her and Helen. Just 
what that something was, she did not know, nor 
could she surmise. There was nothing tan- 
gible for her thoughts to work upon to reach a 
conclusion. She instinctively felt that some- 
thing was wrong. In this particular case, in- 
stinct was stronger than reason. She crept 
into bed, although the retiring bell had not 
rung. The two little iron cots stood side by 
side with only a narrow space between them. 
Helen had always been the deliberate one of 
the two. Hester was generally in bed before 
Helen had finished her reading. It had been 
the latter’s habit to come to Hester’s bed and 
softly kissing her on the forehead to whisper, 
“Good-night, little roommate.” 

It was for this good-night that Hester was 


184 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


waiting. She would insist then upon knowing 
what troubled Helen or what had gone wrong 
to cause this feeling of alienation. She would 
have cried had not her pride sustained her. 
The tears were very near the surface but she 
forced them back. She would cry for no one, 
no matter how that one treated her. 

A few moments before the retiring bell, 
Helen came into the bedroom. Knowing that 
she was late and that the lights would soon 
be turned off, she prepared hastily for bed. 
She did not once glance toward Hester, but 
that might have been because she was hurried. 
While Hester lay and watched her, the lights 
went out. She heard Helen laugh softly and 
say, “Just in time. I just gave the last turn 
to my hair.” 

Then she moved toward the cot, but she 
moved toward the outside and not near that 
of her roommate. Hester was overcome with 
homesickness. Her pride took to itself, wings. 
Raising herself in bed, she turned toward 
Helen. 

“Have you forgotten something, Helen? 
Are you not going to hid me good-night?” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 185 


‘ ‘ Surely. Good-niglit, Hester. ’ ’ 

“But not that way, Helen. I mean the way 
you always have done.” 

There was silence for an instant. To Hester 
it seemed as though hours had passed before 
Helen replied gently and firmly, “Not to-night, 
Hester. I — — cannot — to-night. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XI 


FTER this, Hester Alden believed that 



school could never he as it had been. 
The first day proved that she was wrong. Out- 
wardly, life at Dickinson moved on as before. 
No one appeared to know or care that Hester 
Alden had been touched to the quick, and that 
she was very miserable and unhappy. 

Helen was courtesy itself. She was careful 
to include Hester in all her invitations, but it 
was a carefulness forced upon her from a sense 
of duty and not from love. Hester was not 
dull. She felt the difference. She could be 
quite as proud as Helen. So she raised her 
head a trifle higher as she walked and drew her 
shoulders a little more rigid and gave back to 
Helen the same rigid courtesy that she was 
receiving. 

To Hester it was tragic. The alienation was 
a genuine sorrow to her. To one who merely 
looked on, the two girls were acting foolishly. 


186 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 187 


A few words would have cleared away the mis- 
understanding and saved them from suffering. 
Helen acted from what she thought was a high 
sense of justice; Hester’s action was from 
pride only. 

The other girls in the dormitory knew not 
the cause of the estrangement, for both Helen 
and Hester had that sense of honor which im- 
pelled them to keep closed lips on such matters. 
The intuition of the girls told them that affairs 
between Helen and Hester were not quite the 
same. That was as far as their intuition car- 
ried them. 

In spite of Hester’s unhappiness, matters 
at Dickinson moved on as before. Renee came 
to borrow; Erma laughed merrily; Marne wept 
over the condition of her clothes which looked 
as though they were fresh from the French 
tailor; Josephine grew eloquent on moonlight, 
love-stories, and kindred subjects ; Mellie 
Wright came and went like a gentle ray of sun- 
shine. The strangest part of all to Hester was 
that Mellie, who never appeared to notice what 
took place, was first to grasp the situation. 
Before the week had passed, she made an 


188 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


occasion to join Hester on the campus. No 
reference at all was made to the state of de- 
pression which hung over Hester like a cloud, 
but before the two had parted, the younger 
girl carried with her these impressions : 

Everything comes right some day, and that 
day comes when least expected; nothing mat- 
ters if one continues to do what is right, re- 
gardless of other people’s opinion of one; and 
if one is blue, the best thing to do is to do 
something and do it quickly. 

Mellie did not put her philosophy into those 
words, nor did she make a personal application 
for her companion. The strongest impressions 
are those which We receive unconsciously. 
After this talk with Mellie, Hester’s pride and 
ambition were aroused. She was indignant 
with herself that she had given way to any 
show of feeling and vowed to herself that from 
that instant she would not lose control over 
her emotions. 

Fortunately for her, basket-ball practice fol- 
lowed close on her resolutions and putting her 
thoughts into action, strengthened her. 

She played right guard on the scrub team 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


189 


with Edna Turnbach opposed to her. Edna 
was little, wiry, and active, an opponent that 
was really worth while. 

Hester east her troubles to the wind and went 
into the game with all her energy. Edna was 
quick, but Hester matched her with cool cal- 
culation. Her long strides were equal to 
Edna’s quick ones; and she had the advantage 
of length of arms which could he kept beyond 
Edna’s reach. 

The left guard on the scrub team was Emma 
who resembled a little Dutch doll wound up and 
set to moving. Emma had no guile in her dis- 
position and was utterly lacking in self-asser- 
tion. She admired Hester’s playing and never 
failed to play the ball into her hands. Just the 
moment Hester’s hand touched the ball, Emma 
encouraged her with cries of ‘ ‘ Show them how 
to play, Hessie. Show them how scrubs play 
when they once get started.” 

Emma was both an inspiration and an ad- 
vantage. Hester played with all her energy. 
To watch her, one might believe that all the 
future depended upon the winning of the game. 

For the first half, she had the ball the in- 


190 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


slant the captain’s hand had left it. Passing 
it on to Emma with a quickness and deftness 
which was almost beyond belief, she rushed for- 
ward in position to receive Emma’s return 
pass. It was no easy matter for Edna was 
close at her heels and the center stood in her 
way. But by quick side movements, a sudden 
jerk beneath outstretched arms, the thing was 
done. 

Only once during the first half was the ball 
worked back to the goal of the opposing team; 
but even then it did not make a score. For 
three minutes, it went from end to end of the 
cage and at last went from the hands of the 
scrubs on a foul that Emma had made. 

During the game, Hester was not only play- 
ing right guard. She played the game alone 
with a little assistance from Emma — a game 
of solitaire. She was the team and made every 
score. 

Miss Watson and Doctor Weldon stood in 
the gallery looking on. 

“Hester Alden is a brilliant person,” said 
Miss Watson. “She will amount to something 
if she continues.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 191 


“She can do little in mathematics. She’ll 
pass on about seventy-five per cent,” said 
Miss Laird. She had long since erased Hes- 
ter’s name from her good hooks, for Miss Laird 
knew only angles and equations, fixed values 
and ratios, and had no conception of nor 
admiration for a mind which was not as her 
own. 

Miss Watson laughed at this remark. She 
was more liberal-minded than Miss Laird and 
was not disappointed to fimd that her girls were 
not all of the same type. 

“You can open an oyster with a pen-knife 
as well as a chisel, ’ ’ she said. 

Miss Laird glanced at the speaker. She was 
logical but not witty. Seeing that she did not 
grasp the meaning. Miss Watson continued. 

“Taking the oyster as each one’s little 
world, you know. Miss Laird. I have known 
men and women who have achieved a wonder- 
ful amount of success and happiness who could 
not have made seventy per cent on one of your 
examinations. ’ ’ 

Doctor Weldon had listened in silence. She 
had sat watching Hester during that intense 


192 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


first half. Slie read deeper than either of her 
teachers. 

“I am fearful for Hester,” she said at last. 
She spoke so low that only Miss Watson heard 
her. “She is too easily hurt, and she’ll fight 
off showing it until she drops from exhaustion. 
If I know the girl, her good playing this even- 
ing is not so much for love of the game, as it 
is to hide the fact that something has gone 
wrong. ’ ’ 

“Rather an excellent trait. Do you not 
think so?” said Miss Watson. “Personally, I 
despise a whiner, and haven’t a bit of sympathy 
for a girl who goes about asking for pity. 
Pride is a good thing when it helps us cover up 
our own bruises.” 

“It is very fine, if it is not overdone. You 
know you cannot keep all the steam in a boiler 
under high pressure. There must be a safety 
valve or — trouble. I hope Hester will not be 
too intense. Intense folk need such a lot of 
self-control, or they make every one miserable 
about them.” 

The conversation stopped at this point. The 
practice game was over and Miss Watson went 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 193 


below and into the cage to see that the girls 
were taking the necessary precautions in re- 
gard to wraps. 

“Hester Alden will play at Exeter,” was the 
general opinion at the close of the game. 

“I am sure of that,” said Sara Summerson. 
“During the game I was where I could see 
Miss "^Vatson. Nothing escaped her. She 
watched every move Hester made. Emma was 
all right at first, but that foul put her on Miss 
Watson’s black list. I could tell that. You 
know how Miss Watson presses her lips to- 
gether and nods her head when she’s pleased. 
Well, she did that every time Hester made a 
good play.” 

“I will not get a chance to go,” said Emma. 
“I am sure of that. I’d like to, for I know lots 
of Exeter girls. There’s a whole hunch of 
them from up our way.” 

“You speak as though they were flowers,” 
laughed Erma, as she hurried down the steps 
from the gallery to join the girls. “A hunch 
of girls and a bunch of flowers, I presuhie that 
is a figure of speech, hut nevertheless I would 
not let Doctor Weldon hear me, if I were you. 


194 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


She might fail to see how flowery it is, and 
think you are using slang.” 

Josephine was leaning against the balustrade. 
Her cheeks were pressed upon her upturned 
palm and her eyes were raised toward some 
remote region in the direction of the ceiling. 
Her hair \^as bound with a Greek band. She 
had seen to it that her short-waisted dress was 
suggestive of Grecian lines of beauty. 

“I rather like that term,” she said slowly. 
“We say a bunch of flowers; then why not a 
bunch of girls. Somehow I always think of 
flowers when I see a group of girls together. 
Do people never make you think of flowers? 
Some seem to me like lilies, others like shy, 
modest violets.” 

“Oh, cut it out!” said Emma, disregarding 
the rules in the use of language. “Just at 
present they make me think of a lot of empty 
vessels which will be emptier if they are not 
out of these duds and into dresses before the 
ten-minute bell rings for dinner.” 

Emma strode on down the hall, in company 
with Marne Cross and Edna Bucher. Edna had 
her arm around Emma’s waist, although she 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


195 


was fully six years Emma’s senior. But the 
younger girl’s father was a bank president, a 
railroad magnate, and a number of other im- 
portant persons, and Edna believed in cultivat- 
ing friendship where it would bear fruit worth 
while. Emma was lavish and Edna fell heir 
to many discarded trifles and was never ignored 
when Emma had a spread or banquet. 

“Josephine is too sentimental,” said Emma 
placidly. “If she would only waken and talk 
sense, she would be fine.” 

“She’s such a sweet girl,” said Edna. 
Every woman, girl or child she had ever known, 
came under that general heading in Edna 
Bucher’s good books. They were “sweet.” 
That was always the sum and substance of her 
criticism. There might have been a reason for 
such a general judgment. As in the case of 
Josephine, obligation fixed the limit of Edna’s 
expression. She was at that moment, wearing 
a shirt-waist which Josephine had purchased 
only to find it too small for comfort in wearing. 

During the three weeks before the game with 
Exeter, nine practice games were played be- 
tween the first team and the scrubs. In these 


196 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Hester Alden played right guard. She had 
never missed a goal which she had attempted 
and had never made a foul. There had been 
one or two instances when she might have done 
quicker work in passing and kept the ball from 
the control of the opponent; hut they were 
minor faults which faded into insignificance 
before her more brilliant plays. 

During this time, Helen had maintained the 
letter of courtesy toward her roommate. But 
there was no longer any show of affection or 
love between them. Nothing had been said 
about the trip to Exeter. However, Hester 
was counting upon it. She knew that her play- 
ing had justified Miss Watson and Helen in 
selecting her. Miss Watson was the head of 
the athletics, yet the choice of players in 
reality rested with Helen. 

Miss Watson permitted this because she be- 
lieved that girls who were in sympathy with 
each other could work together better than 
where there was an unfriendly feeling or an- 
tagonism. Hester, relying on being chosen as 
a substitute for the Exeter game, made ready 
her suit, purchased a new pair of gymnasium 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 197 


shoes, and was about to write to Aunt Debby 
concerning the trip. 

The games were played on Friday evening, 
unless the distance was too great for the visit- 
ing team to reach the school in a few hours. 
Then Saturday afternoon was given over to 
them. Several days before. Miss Watson read 
out the names of the substitutes and the 
teacher who would go in charge of the girls. 
This important reading took place immediately 
after the general gymnasium work in the after- 
noon. 

Wednesday morning, Berenice went about 
with a very wise expression. She looked as 
though she could tell a great deal if she were 
insisted upon. Erma, meeting her in the hall, 
fell prey to her hints and insisted that she tell 
the secret that was weighing her down. 

“I was in the office waiting to see Doctor 
Weldon,” said Berenice. “Miss Watson was 
in the private office talking with the doctor. It 
was something about the players for the Exeter 
game. You know Miss Watson must always 
give the list to Doctor Weldon before it is an- 
nounced. Something unusual happened, for 


198 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


they debated a long time. Of course, I could 
not catch the words. I did not try ; but I could 
not help knowing that there was a discussion.” 

“There generally is,” said Erma. “Doctor 
Weldon will not allow a girl to play unless she 
is up in her work and her conduct. Campused 
twice, and your throat is cut for any work in 
athletics.” 

Berenice’s face flushed. The reference to be- 
ing campused touched her. 

“This was more than that. It was an argu- 
ment; Miss Watson held to one idea and Doctor 
Weldon to another.” This was growing inter- 
esting. A group of girls clustered about 
Berenice to hear the startling news. 

“Did you hear who the substitutes were?” 
asked someone. 

“Why ask that?” said Sara Summerson 
slowly. 

“I am not brilliant, nor yet am I observing; 
but I know who the substitutes will be if the 
choice is according to their playing.” 

“If a is,” said Berenice. 

“I think it always is,” said Mellie gently. 
“It would be very foolish to have it otherwise; 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 199 


to risk our securing the pennant on account of 
a little personal feeling. I do not like to feel 
that people are unjust. They have always 
treated me fairly.” 

“They always will,” said Erma. 

“They have never treated me fairly,” said 
Berenice. “Every one I meet always tries to 
make something from me or treats me un- 
fairly.” 

Erma laughed and the girls followed her 
fashion. 

“They always will, Berenice,” she said. 
“People always find what they are looking for. 
You always find in every place just what you 
carry there. You are out looking for trouble, 
and you will find it waiting around the corner. 
If you will persist in going about with a chip 
on your shoulder, you may be sure that some- 
one will take pleasure in knocking it otf.” 

“But the players,” cried Emma. “Who are 
they? When will Miss Watson read the 
names?” 

“I did not hear the names, hut I did hear 
her say that she intended making them public 
at gym this afternoon.” 


200 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“I intend to ask Doctor Weldon if I may go 
over witli tke girls,” said Emma. “Of course, 
I know that I will not be allowed to play and 
I don’t care much about it. I’d have just as 
much fun looking on and rooting. I know a 
dandy lot of girls over there.” 

“You had better see her early then,” said 
Louise Reed. “She will not grant more than 
ten extra permissions and I know a number of 
girls who intend going.” 

“I’ll see her the first thing after luncheon,” 
said Emma. “She will not let us come before 
one- thirty.” 

“Whatever you do, E mm a, do not get excited 
and tell Doctor Weldon that you know some 
‘dandy’ girls at Exeter. She will not allow any 
of us to go if she hears from you that the Exeter 
girls are of that type. Be careful, Emma. ’ ’ 

Emma shrugged her shoulders and tried to 
look serious, but the effort was a failure, for 
the dimples came to her cheeks and rippled 
into smiles. She turned to Marne and asked if 
she were going. 

“I — agoing?” exclaimed Marne. “How can I 
go? I haven’t a thing fit to wear.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


201 


“You might wear your new blue broadcloth,” 
suggested Louise Reed. 

“New? Why, I bad that before the holidays. 
I never did like it. I shall not go with you 
girls and look shabby. You always look so 
well and I will not put you to shame.” 

“I am sorry for you,” said Erma. “I’d 
offer you my tan coat suit which I have worn 
but two years, only I need it myself; it being 
the only one of its kind that I have.” 

“You may laugh,” said Marne. “But I am 
telling you the truth. I haven’t a dress fit to 
wear.” 

“No congregating in the hall, if you please. 
If you must talk together you will find the par- 
lor open to receive you.” Miss Burkham had 
come among them and spoke with a voice of 
gentle authority. 

“Yes, Miss Burkham,” replied six voices to- 
gether, as the six bowed and moved to their 
rooms. 

The rumor that the names of the players 
would be read that afternoon filled the ranks 
in the gymnasium. A number of girls had re- 
ceived permission to be absent, but on hearing 


202 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


the rumor, they reconsidered and decided that 
they were able to be present. The period of 
exercise dragged along. The girls went 
through with the drills with as much animation 
as one might expect from an automatic machine. 
Their eyes were upon the clock whose hands 
moved provokingly slow. But it came to an 
end, as all things must after a time. 

Miss Watson gave a signal to the pianist to 
stop playing. Then stepping to the front, she 
bade the girls to be seated. They found places 
on the floor, on the horse and the mattresses 
which lay along the outer edge of the floor. 
A few drew themselves up on the horizontal 
bars and balanced there carefully while Miss 
Watson drew forth her paper, looked it over 
and then began her preliminary remarks. One 
could have heard a pin drop, so quiet was the 
room. 

“As you know, we play the Exeter team in 
their gymnasium, Friday evening,” began Miss 
Watson in her brisk, business-like way. “The 
game will be called at eight o’clock. We shall 
have a two-hours’ ride to reach Exeter. The 
last train from our station leaves at four 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


203 


o’clock. Consequently, the faculty will excuse 
from lessons Friday afternoon, all the girls 
who play.” 

“Or root?” finished Emma. She was bal- 
anced on the bars. The sound of her own voice 
so startled her that she nearly lost her balance 
and was saved from falling only by Louise’s 
clutching her firmly by the shoulder. 

Miss Watson turned toward Emma and 
looked her reprimand. “What have you to say 
concerning the matter. Miss Chase ? ’ ’ she asked. 
The tones of her voice would have disconcerted 
any one but Emma. Hers was an effervescent 
spirit which could not be suppressed. She 
smiled upon Miss Watson as she replied, “The 
girls who go along to root — will they be excused, 
too? You said the players will not have any 
lessons Friday afternoon. What about the 
girls that root?” 

Miss Watson looked her scorn of the question 
and questioner. One thing which had been dis- 
countenanced by the faculty and by Miss Wat- 
son in particular, was the word “rooting” and 
all it stood for. 

Miss Watson ignored the questions and con- 


204 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


tinned, “Miss Burkham kad planned to accom- 
pany you — 

The girls gasped. With Miss Burkham in 
charge they would not he allowed to speak above 
a whisper. She would compel them to be all 
that was elegant and conventional. 

“ — ^but she has found that to be impossible. 
Neither Doctor Weldon nor I can leave the 
school, so Fraulein Franz will have you in 
charge.” 

There was a relaxation of muscles. An ex- 
pression of amusement and relief spread over 
the faces of the girls. Dear Fraulein Franz! 
She would be with them like a mother hen with 
a brood of ducks. With the Fraulein they 
would do much as they pleased, and she would 
attribute it to the peculiar customs of the coun- 
try. 

“The first team will be made up of the reg- 
ular players. Three substitutes will accom- 
pany the team. Doctor Weldon thought three 
would be sufficient. I shall read the names of 
players and substitutes.” Taking up the pa- 
per, she read. 

“Captain, Miss Loraine — Players: Misses 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 205 


Turnbach, Cross, Bucher, and Loveland. Sub- 
stitutes ; Misses Reed, Chase, and Thomas.” 

That was all. Hester’s heart had been in 
her throat at the beginning. Now she felt cold 
and chill. She had been so confident. The girls 
knew that she had expected to be chosen. They 
knew that she had her suit in order, with gay 
new letters across the blouse. She sat quite 
silent and motionless on the mattress propped 
against the wall. She could not raise her eyes 
to meet the eyes of the girls. She could not 
speak to them. The girls did the kindest thing 
they could do. They went off without attempt- 
ing to speak to her, or to offer her condolence 
or sympathy. 

When she raised her eyes, she found that the 
gymnasium was deserted and that she was the 
only occupant. 

She arose and went out into the corridor. 
She could not go to her room and meet Helen. 
Helen had played her false. Perhaps, the re- 
cent assumption of dignity on Helen’s part had 
been to prevent any criticism of this action. 

Hester could not remain alone in the gymna- 
sium, neither in her present garb would she 


206 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


be permitted to visit the parlor, nor to linger 
in the balls. The only alternative was to go 
to ber room, and meet Helen there. Tbe in- 
justice of tbe choice of substitutes at last ap- 
pealed to ber. Had she been an Alden in very 
truth, she could not have shown tbe old revo- 
lutionary spirit more. 

Wounded feeling gave way; personal pride 
took to itself wings. Tbe thing was unjust and 
she would not bear it even from Helen Lo- 
raine. Another thing she would not bear — she 
had borne it too long already — and that was the 
distant, haughty treatment accorded her by 
Helen. Hester Alden ’s spirit arose. She 
would have justice though she had to fight for 
it. 

The feeling of humiliation left her. Now she 
had no dread of meeting the girls. She raised 
her head proudly. Her eyes hashed, and a 
flush came to her cheeks. 

Helen was in the study when she entered. 
She was evidently doing nothing and had been 
doing nothing for some minutes. Perhaps she 
dreaded the meeting as much as Hester. She 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 207 


looked up when the latter entered and spoke, 
“Well, Hester, are you back from the gym?” 

To use Debby’s expression, Hester was not 
one to beat about the bush. Now, she brought 
up the subject at once. 

“Did you or Miss Watson choose the sub- 
stitutes ? ’ ’ she asked. 

“Why, I did. That is, I recommended the 
ones I wished to play, and Miss Watson agreed 
that they were satisfactory.” 

“Helen Loraine, did you choose ones who 
played the best, as you have boasted that you 
always do?” 

“I took the ones that played well and whom 
I thought had a right to be substituted.” 

“Answer me this.” Hester walked directly 
before her roommate. Standing so, they looked 
into each other’s eyes. “Answer me this. Do 
I not play a better game than either Louise or 
Emma? Have I not made the score when their 
fouls would have brought it down?” 

“Yes, you have. You are a better player 
than either. To do you justice, Hester, you 
play as well as any girl on the first team,” 


208 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 


“I do, and yet you passed me over for an 
inferior player. Is that justice to either the 
team or me?” 

“It does not appear so. Yet one cannot 
judge from appearances alone. I believed that 
I did what was fair and honorable.” 

“I fail to see it that way,” said Hester 
proudly. 

“We do not see it from the same point of 
view.” 

“Evidently not. But this much I insist 
upon. I must know the reason why you 
ignored me when you have acknowledged that 
I was the best player. I demand the rea- 
son.” 

“Don’t you know, Hester Alden? Don’t 
you really know?” 

“I do not. There is something else I do not 
know or understand; that is your treatment of 
me for the last three weeks. Do not for a mo- 
ment think that I am begging for either your 
love or friendship. I wish nothing that does 
not come to me of its free will. But it was you 
who first wished to be friends. It was you who 
always made the first advances. Time and 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPABT 209 


time again, you told me that I was nearer to 
you than any friend you had ever had and that 
I seemed more like a sister to you.” 

“I know,” said Helen slowly. “And I 
meant every word. From that first night you 
were here, you were never like a stranger. I 
meant every word I told you.” 

Her voice was low and sorrowful; but Hes- 
ter was unmoved. The hitter feeling which had 
filled her heart for three weeks was now burst- 
ing forth in a torrent. 

“Much I care for such atfection! If that is 
the way you treat your sister, I am very glad 
I am not she. Suddenly, without a reason, you 
grow haughty and rude — .” 

“Eude! I was never rude, Hester. I was 
always courteous.” 

“Yes, with the kind of courtesy which made 
me angry all over. I wish to tell you right 
here, Helen Loraine, that I shall not stand being 
treated so without a reason.” 

“I thought I had a reason. I think yet I 
have a reason.” 

‘ ‘ Then why did you not come to me and tell 
me point blank? It is far better to accuse me 


210 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


of something definite than to go about acting 
and looking unutterable things.” 

“I could not tell you. Even now, if I should 
tell you and ask for an explanation — .” 

“I would refuse to give it. It was either 
your place to come directly to me or to trust 
me implicitly. I would give no explanation 
now, if I had a million of them to give. ’ ’ 

“But, Hester, listen. I have been as hurt 
and miserable about this as you. Let me tell 
you — .” 

“Here you are. I knocked once and you 
didn’t hear me. Hester, would you just as soon 
lend me your basket-ball suit? I never gave a 
thought of going to Exeter and I haven’t any 
letters for my blouse.” It was Renee who 
had interrupted them. 

“Yes, you may have it,” said Hester. She 
moved away. The talk which might have re- 
sulted in a reconciliation between her and Helen 
was not resumed and nothing at all came from 
it. 


CHAPTEE XII 

T here were but twelve girls who went down 
from Dickinson to the Exeter game; but 
to the hundred yet remaining, it seemed as 
though the dormitories were vacant. Hester 
found the afternoon long. Her anger had 
passed. She was not sorry that she had spoken 
as she did, but that no results had come from 
her show of spirits. She was not in a mood to 
visit with the other girls. Her intimate friends 
had gone with the basket-ball team. No study 
hour was observed Friday evening. The par- 
lors and library were open. Hester, from her 
room, could hear the sound of the piano and 
the school songs. Instead of enlivening her, 
it had the opposite effect. 

The girls who went down to Exeter could not 
possibly return until Saturday evening. That 
meant another entire day alone. Hester did 
not like to think of that. 

211 


212 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“I shall pack my suit-case and to-morrow 
morning, I shall ask Doctor Weldon to allow 
me to go to Aunt Dehby.” 

The decision brought up her spirits. She im- 
mediately began to arrange her work. The 
books were put in order and a suit-case taken 
from the shelf in the closet. 

“Aimt Debby said she would make new col- 
lars for my waists and change the sleeves.” 
With this promise in mind, she selected the thin 
white waists which were showing signs of wear. 
Miss Richards and Miss Debby, with a few 
deft touches, would make these look almost as 
well as new. 

In her rummaging, Hester had the same ex- 
perience that Helen had had three weeks before. 
She went over the boxes for some article she 
needed. She discovered the little box hidden 
away in the corner. She opened it and ex- 
claimed just as Helen had done. 

“My pin! I had forgotten all about that. 
I think I shall wear it. It looks rather pretty 
against a white dress.” Holding it up against 
her waist, she looked down upon it with satis- 
faction. It surely did look pretty, against the 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 213 


white! The little bit of cut glass scintillated 
like a bit of fire. Pastening it to her waist, 
she continued her work. 

The next morning, she went down to break- 
fast wearing the pin. Mellie was at the table, 
and gave a look of surprise when Hester came 
in. After a time she turned to her and said: 
“Where did Helen find her pin? I am glad 
she has recovered it, for it was valuable in ad- 
dition to being an heirloom.” 

“I did not know she had found it,” said Hes- 
ter. ‘ ‘ She did not mention the matter to me. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I thought — . ’ ’ Mellie hesitated and did not 
finish the sentence. Several times, Hester 
found her looking closely at her. 

Hester was wearing a soft shirt-waist with 
a tie. The ends of the tie knotted in butterfly 
fashion had been caught together by the pin 
which was partly hidden by them. 

Hester secured permission to visit her Aunt 
Debby. She was to go down on the ten o ’clock 
car and return Monday morning in time for 
chapel. On her way to the car, she met Mellie, 
Berenice and several girls from the west dormi- 
tory. 


214 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“We’ll walk with, you to the triangle,” said 
Berenice. “I do not know how we will put in 
our time to-day. It is certainly dull with the 
girls gone. I wonder how the game went last 
evening!” 

“Didn’t you hear!” asked one of the others. 
“They telephoned Miss Watson last evening. 
She’s our hall-teacher and she told us at once. 
It was twenty to thirty in favor of Exeter.” 

“Exeter won!” cried Berenice. “It is poor 
management on someone’s part. They never 
won a game from us before — ^not on such a 
score. Last year neither scored, and the year 
before Exeter was one goal ahead, and they 
would not have made that if the referee had 
not been partial.” 

“I am sorry. I was sure they would win,” 
said Hester. They had come to the triangle, 
the place where the sloping walks meet at an 
angle. 

“They would have won, too, if you had been 
there. You should have been. I, for one, was 
ready to revolt Wednesday morning, and the 
other girls would have stood by me. We would 
have done so if you would have shown any 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 215 


spirit; but you sat there as though the game 
were nothing to you.” 

Hester smiled but made no attempt to reply. 
She was learning to know Berenice and the 
danger of expressing one’s opinion in her pres- 
ence. Life at Dickinson was teaching her more 
than what lay between the covers of books. 
She was learning to meet people, to know them 
as they were, and to hold her tongue under prov- 
ocation as she was doing now. 

Berenice was not easily put aside. ‘‘Why, 
did you not show some spirit about it, Hester ? ’ ’ 

“Spirit? Why should I? If Miss Watson 
and Helen thought Emma put up a better game 
than I, why should I complain?” 

Berenice shrugged her shoulders. She was 
about to say more when Erma came down the 
dormitory steps and crossed the campus to- 
ward them. Her fair hair was piled high on 
her head in puffs and rolls. She was wrapped 
in a long garnet sweater. She looked like a 
crimson rose as she moved across the snow. 

“Drop the subject,” cried Berenice. “Here 
comes Erma. She takes exception to every- 
thing I say. One cannot express an opinion or 


216 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


offer a criticism in her presence unless one is 
taken to task.” 

“Perhaps it is just as well to let it drop,” 
said Mellie gently. “It is only a game of bas- 
ket-ball and not worth a heated discussion.” 

“Well, peaches,” cried Erma cheerily ac- 
costing Hester. “Are you really going home? 
Won’t your Aunt Dehby he glad to see you. 
Tell her I send her a thousand hugs and a mil- 
lion kisses. How I wish I were going home to 
see that dear old daddy of mine. Girls, when 
you want to see the grandest man in the world, 
come home with me and I’ll show you my 
daddy.” 

Berenice looked down over her nose. 

“It is well to be satisfied,” she said. 

‘ ‘ It certainly is, ’ ’ replied Erma. ‘ ‘ I am glad 
I am. There’s not a father or mother better 
than mine and my friends are the best in the 
world. I wouldn’t exchange them for mil- 
lions.” 

She had come close to Hester, and encircling 
her with her arm, asked, “When are you com- 
ing back, peaches?” 

“Monday morning. There comes my car 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 217 


now.” Slie stooped to lift her snit-case which 
Marshall had brought down from her room and 
deposited at her feet. As she did so, the but- 
terfly end of her tie fluttered, displaying her 
quaint pin whose setting gleamed like a spark 
of fire. 

Its scintillation caught Erma’s eye. She 
was about to remark concerning it, but stopped 
herself in time. But Berenice, who never let 
anything escape her, also caught the sparkle 
of the stone. More than that, she saw the ex- 
pression which passed quickly over Erma’s 
face, and she read it aright. She made no re- 
mark until Hester had boarded the car, had 
waved her good-byes and the car had disap- 
peared down the bend of the road. Then turn- 
ing, she slipped her arm into Erma’s and 
Mellie’s, and so walking between them, moved 
toward the building. 

“Did you notice the pin Hester had on?” 
she asked suddenly. 

Mellie was , wise and did not answer. Erma, 
who was as transparent as a ray of light, grew 
confused and tried to cover it up by asking, 
“A pin? Did she have a pin on? I suppose 


218 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


she did. Girls generally wear pins of some 
sort. ’ ’ 

Berenice shrugged her shoulders. “Yes; 
she had a pin on, Erma Thomas, and you ob- 
served it as well as I did. You know as well as 
I do whose pin it is.” 

“You are very much mistaken. I know 
nothing at all about it. I have nothing to do 
with other people’s jewelry.” 

“You have with this. At least you spent 
hours in helping to look for it. It is that odd 
one which Helen Loraine wore and which so 
mysteriously disappeared.” 

“Any disappearance is a mystery. If I lose 
a collar button, it is a mystery to me. If it was 
not, I would know where it was. The things we 
don’t know are always mysterious. If we 
know, then they are as plain as day.” 

“It seems strange it should disappear for 
three months and then Hester Alden have it on, 
especially when Helen Loraine is away. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That is the very time you should wear other 
people’s jewelry and clothes. When I am 
home I always wear my mother’s best silk 
stockings and rustling petticoats when I know 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 219 


she’s down in the city shopping. Of course I 
always ask her — ^when she comes back — and 
she never refuses me permission. She always 
says the same thing: ‘Well, since you have 
them on — ’ ” 

Erma’s attempts to lead the conversation 
away from Hester and the pin was without re- 
sults. Berenice clung to the subject with a 
tenacity which would have been admirable had 
the thing been worth while. 

“I understand you, Erma. You think just as 
I do, but you are afraid to say so. I suspected 
from the first where the pin went ; but of course 
I did not say so.” 

“Do you not think it a wise course to follow 
now — to say nothing?” 

“It is very different now. Before, I was 
merely suspicious. One may not make state- 
ments in mere suspicion. Now I have proofs.” 

“Proofs? Because Hester Alden has the 
pin on and Helen is away?” 

“Let us walk along the edge of the river,” 
said Mellie. She, too, meant to change the con- 
versation. “I love the river when it is ice- 
bound. I should like to cross if I thought it 


220 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


were safe. But I fancy we had better not. We 
have bad several days of tbaw and that always 
rots tbe ice, and rotten ice is far more danger- 
ous than tbin ice.” 

“I intend to speak my mind,” said Berenice. 
‘ ‘ Mellie and you are very much afraid you will 
express yourselves. You tbink as I do about 
tbe matter, but you will not say so. I cannot 
see tbe difference between thinking a thing and 
saying it outright.” 

“The best thing to do is not to tbink it,” 
said Erma. She laughed long and loud and 
merrily. “That is quite an idea. After this, 
I shall not tbink things. Perhaps my brain 
will never wear out. Doesn’t tbe physiology 
say that every thought wears away some of 
the gray cellular tissue? Thank goodness, no 
one can blame me for destroying mine. I am 
sure I never thought any of mine away.” As 
she spoke a new thought came to her. “No 
doubt, Helen found her pin weeks ago and you 
are having your tempest in a tea-pot all for 
nothing. ’ ’ 

Berenice had not thought of that possibility. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 221 


This was an argument, she was not equal to 
and was the means of causing her to say no 
more on the subject. 

She knew from experience that she could not 
talk with some of the girls. They had a sense 
of loyalty and honor which restrained them 
from discussing anyone who came under the 
name of friend. 

Berenice was unfortunate in her disposition. 
She was not by nature honest or sincere, and 
she could not conceive of another’s being so. 
When Erma and Mellie had refused to listen 
to her suspicions, she attributed not to their 
high sense of honor, but rather that they were 
deceiving her and would discuss the question 
between themselves. 

Every girl in the hall understood Berenice. 
They were careful of their words while in her 
presence and they never repeated a tale that 
she carried to them. Many a time had they 
taken her to task, but she never profited by the 
lessons. When the girls spoke to her plainly, 
she put the fault on them instead of upon her- 
self. Gradually the girls let her go her own 


222 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


way, gave no credence to her words and kept 
a bridle on their tongues, when Berenice was 
within hearing. 

Yet, a word dropped here and there, will 
spring up and bear seed even though every one 
about knows it to be but a poisonous weed. 
Berenice dropped these seeds in plenty. A 
word fell here and there, although the hearers 
repudiated it, it yet made an impression, be- 
fore any one was conscious that it was so. No 
one could trace the source from which it sprung, 
but the impression was strong throughout the 
hall that Hester Alden had taken Helen’s val- 
uable pin and had hidden it away for months, 
then at the first opportunity when Helen was 
at Exeter, Hester had worn it home. 

Hester, wholly unconscious that her action 
might be misjudged or that it should be judged 
at all, had left the pin at the cottage with Aunt 
Debby. She had put it away in her own tiny 
bedroom. A feeling of pride had restrained 
her from wearing it at school. The other girls 
wore pins which were not make-believes and 
Hester did not like the idea of the odd metal 
and cut glass. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 223 


“Aunt Debby told me it was just a cheap 
little pin,” she said to herself as she placed 
it away. “I shall always keep it because it 
was my mother’s, but I shall not wear it. I do 
not feel just right wearing something which 
pretends to be something else.” 

When Hester returned to school Monday 
morning, more than one pair of eyes looked 
eagerly for her coming. Erma and Mellie 
were hoping that she would come in with the 
pin boldly in evidence, and thus put to rout 
the rumors which had crept into the hall. 
Berenice, too, watched for Hester’s coming 
with a wholly dilferent motive. 

“If Hester Alden comes in to class and wears 
the pin when Helen is present, then of course 
nothing can be said. I shall believe it then that 
Helen found the pin and allowed Hester to 
wear it. But if Hester comes back without it, 
I shall draw my own conclusions, and I shall 
feel justified in doing so.” 

She did not dare to say this to Mellie, Erma, 
or the older girls. It was to Emma she spoke, 
and Emma being youngest of all, and new to 
school life, listened and believed. 


224 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Hester was expected on the eight o ’clock car. 
It was not by chance that some of the girls lin- 
gered in the main hall at the time of her com- 
ing. 

Marshall from the office window, saw the car 
coming in the distance and went down to the 
triangle to carry np Hester’s baggage. The 
group of girls saw him and moved nearer to 
the door. 

“The car is coming. Hester will be on it,” 
said Berenice. Erma was in the little group. 
At the tone in Berenice’s voice, Erma flushed. 
Like a flash there came to her a conception of 
the part she was playing in this. If she were 
Hester Alden’s friend, she had no right to ques- 
tion her action and no right to wait at the door 
to And proof of her perfidy or her honesty. 
Erma raised her head proudly, “I think I shall 
not wait here. I shall see Hester later. The 
dear old honeysuckle that she is! I shall be 
glad to have her back. I missed her dread- 
fully these two days.” She turned her back 
on the group and was about to walk away when 
Mellie moved forward and slipped her hand in 
Erma’s arm. “I shall go with, you,” she said. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 225 


Others, grasping the situation more clearly 
than they had before, followed the example of 
Erma. So it was, that only Berenice and two 
of the younger girls waited at the doorway. 

But a few moments they stood there, when 
the door opened and Marshall ushered Hester 
into the hall. 

“I shall take this case directly to your room. 
Miss Alden,” said Marshall. 

“Thank you, Marshall,” cried Hester. She 
was her gay, bright self after her visit with 
Aunt Debby. Her eyes were sparkling and her 
cheeks bright. She turned to the girls who 
stood waiting for her. Ignorant of the motive 
which had brought them here to meet her, she 
greeted them affectionately. 

“It was lovely of you girls to come down 
here to meet me. I had a lovely time with 
Aunt Debby. Yet I am glad to get back to 
school.” 

While she had been speaking, she had drawn 
off her gloves and had thrown back her coat. 
The girls had given no response to her greet- 
ing, but stood with their eyes fixed upon her. 
The exclamation which Berenice gave sounded 


226 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


much like one of exultation; for Hester Alden 
was not wearing a pin. 

Hester felt conditions about her. She gave 
the three girls a quick hurried glance as though 
to grasp the intangible something which she 
felt. Then she continued her way down the 
corridor. Berenice was not easily offended. 
Catching step with Hester, she walked with 
her. 

“Did you lose your pin, Hester?” she asked. 
“You had such a pretty pin on when you left 
school Saturday morning. I noticed at once 
that you didn’t have it on now. Do you sup- 
pose you lost it?” 

“No, I did not. I left it home purposely.” 

“Indeed. If I had such a pin I am sure I 
would wear it. There are only one or two girls 
in school who have diamonds. If I had a pin 
with a diamond in it, I am sure I’d be only too 
anxious to wear it.” 

“But that did not happen to he a diamond. 
It is a very cheap little pin which belonged to 
Aunt Debby — that is, it belonged to me, and I’d 
rather keep it than wear it.” 

Berenice gave her shoulders a shrug, lowered 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 227 


her eyelids until her eyes looked like little 
beads. She would prove to the girls that what 
she had said was true. Every one of Hester’s 
friends had heard the report but had refused 
to discuss it. Erma laughed in derision at the 
mention of it. “Oh, you silly thing,” she 
cried, “to come to me with such a story. 
Don’t I know Hester better than that.” 

And Mellie, Marne, Renee, and Sara stopped 
the tale-bearers in their story. Yet while they 
tried to be true, in the heart of each one was 
a doubt. Had they not seen the pin many 
times? Had it not disappeared weeks and 
weeks ago ; and had they not seen Hester wear 
it home, and that when Helen was absent? 
Proof was brought before them and they tried 
to ignore it. They tried to strengthen them- 
selves in their position by believing that Helen 
had found the pin and had neglected to tell 
them. 

Hester’s friends would have let the matter 
pass, giving her the benefit of a doubt, but 
there was in school a different set who were 
easily influenced and stood ready to believe 
anything that was told them. This set with 


228 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Berenice as instigator, took it upon themselves 
to ostracize Hester, 

It was the custom of the students to loiter 
in the parlor after dinner, gathering about in 
groups. Someone talked; others drew about 
the piano; while others arm in arm walked up 
and down in confidential talk. One evening 
as Hester joined one of these groups, the talk 
ceased. There was an attempt to resume it, 
but it was fruitless. The group scattered, 
leaving Hester alone. This occurred several 
times. Hester was not supersensitive; neither 
was she dull. She knew that something had 
gone amiss, and that she had purposely been 
snubbed. But not by so much as a glance did 
she show that she was conscious of the treat- 
ment. She lingered a few moments longer, 
made a pretense of playing a piece and then 
went to her room and took up her books. 

“They will not treat me so a second time,” 
she said to herself. “They’ll never have the 
satisfaction of knowing that I observed them.” 

It was all very well to speak bravely, but the 
sting was deep. She had determination and 
pluck enough not to bewail. She took up her 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 229 

lessons and vented her energy in getting them 
out. 

She was not alone in observing the conduct 
of the younger set. The girls of her own hall 
had also seen what had taken place. 

Not in this alone, did the younger girls ex- 
press themselves. At recreation hour, which 
followed the evening study period, they were 
accustomed to gather in little groups in one of 
the rooms. At these times, the chafing-dish 
was brought into use, and the air was heavy 
with the odor of chocolate. By contriving, the 
younger set managed that Hester no longer 
made one of the party. 

One evening, Erma and Marne took the girls 
to task on this matter. Emma and Louise ex- 
pressed themselves strongly. Hester had been 
guilty of the greatest dishonesty and they meant 
to cut her dead. 

“Are you taking it upon yourself to mete 
out judgment?” asked Mellie gently. “I 
should scarcely feel myself equal to such a 
great work. You are not sure that Hester is 
guilty. You are surmising. Who knows but 
Helen found the pin.” 


230 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAKT 


“I know,” exclaimed Berenice. “I took it 
upon myself to ask her.” 

“You must have had — ” Erma began with 
some show of feeling, but stopped herself sud- 
denly and laughed instead. What was the use 
in turning the matter into a tragedy. “Well, 
if you begin to cut people, you little freshmen, 
bear in mind that other girls can do the same. 
Hester is my friend and will continue to be. 
If she is not treated as I am treated, then I 
am treated badly.” 

“It’s a case of love me, love my dog, is it?” 
asked Berenice. 

“It’s a case of treat my friends as you treat 
me. If Hester is not at the next fudge party, 
then you may expect me to leave and further- 
more, you need expect no invitation to any 
spreads that I have anything to do with.” 

She went her way. The younger girls 
shrugged their shoulders. It was considered 
very fine to be entertained by the seniors and to 
be accepted by them as friends. The freshmen 
who had been so favored did not wish to forgo 
these joys. On the other hand, they did not 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 231 


like the idea of giving up their independence 
and running at the heck and call of any senior. 

Berenice’s words about asking Helen in re- 
gard to finding the pin, had put Erma’s con- 
victions to rout. She tried to comfort herself 
in the thought that Berenice was not always 
reliable in her statements. It was sorry com- 
fort at the best. A heroic course then pre- 
sented itself to Erma. The thought no sooner 
presented itself to her than she determined 
to put it into play. 

“This evening after study hour, I intend 
making some hot chocolate. Marshall shall buy 
me some nice fresh wafers when he goes down 
the street.” 

“Thank you, I shall be there,” said Marne. 

“No, you shall not. That is what I wish to 
speak to you about. The moment the half-hour 
bell rings, I wish you to go down to Hester 
Alden’s room and I wish you to keep her there 
until I call to you and her to come. But not 
for worlds must you let her know that there 
has been anything premeditated about the af- 
fairs.” 


232 HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 


“Oh, not for the worlds,” said Marne. “I 
do not quite grasp your idea, but I’ll do as 
I am told though I die for it.” 

“You ’ll not die, Mamie. The good die young, 
so I see a long, long life for you. You will be 
rewarded for your goodness. I shall save the 
biggest cup for you and I’ll fill it twice without 
so much as your hinting.” 

“I am your servant from henceforth. Two 
cups of cocoa to be had not for the asking, and 
big cups at that.” 

Promptly at the recreation hour, Marne hur- 
ried off to see Hester. There was something 
she wished done for the paper and Hester wrote 
so beautifully. Helen went away and left them. 
The sound of voices came up to them from 
Fifty-four. 

“Erma asked me to come down for some hot 
chocolate,” suggested Hester. But Marne re- 
fused to take the hint. 

“Yes, she asked me too. She’ll call us when 
it’s ready. She knows that I am up here. 
Now, about this editorial. I’d rather write a 
novel than an editorial any time. In novels, 
something may be done; but in editorials, one 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 233 


must just think. Would you say this, Hester ? ’ ’ 

She began her reading on an abstract subject 
which was a theme worthy of a logician and 
Hester was compelled to listen. 

Meanwhile, down in Fifty-four, a number of 
girls had gathered. Erma was making good 
use of the chafing-dish while Eenee was passing 
salt wafers and blanched almonds. Erma was 
laughing merrily, as she poured the cocoa. In 
the midst of her activities her brooch fell from 
her collar on to the table. 

“Good thing, I heard it,” she exclaimed, 
drawing the attention of the entire room to it. 
“If I had dropped it in the hall or on the 
campus, I might never have found it, just as 
you did, Helen. You never found your pin did 
you?” 

“No,” said Helen. Her reply was given 
curtly as though her mind were on other mat- 
ters. 

“I told you so,” cried Berenice with a show 
of exultation, looking from one girl to another. 
They had become suddenly quiet at Helen’s 
reply. 

“I told you so,” she repeated. Then turning 


234 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


to Helen, she continued. “I can tell you where 
it is. I saw it and so did several of the others. 
But they are afraid to tell.” 

“Not afraid,” said Mellie gently. “Pear 
was not what kept us silent.” 

“Hester Alden knows where it is,” continued 
Berenice. “While you were at Exeter, Hester 
went home. I met her in the hall and walked 
with her to the triangle. I saw the pin on her 
tie. It was partly hidden by the ends of her 
tie. WTien she came hack, she did not have it 
with her. I was not the only girl who saw it. 
They all feel as I do about it. Hester Alden 
took your pin.” 

She looked about the room with an air of 
malicious triumph. What could the girls do 
or say now? The gauntlet had been thrown 
down and they could not fling it back. It must 
lie there, for Hester could not be defended. 
Gentle, soft-spoken Mellie arose to the occa- 
sion. “I hope you are happy now, Berenice,” 
she said. “But I do not see how you can be 
after such an act. You have deliberately done 
what you could to ruin Hester’s reputation and 
what have you gained by it? Nothing at all, ex- 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 235 


cept those who have heard, care just a little 
less for you.” 

During these remarks, Helen had sat silent 
on a heap of cushions piled high on the floor. 
At Berenice’s first words, she had grown pale 
but she listened without a word. What could 
she say or do! While Mellie spoke, she de- 
cided the course she would take. If the girls 
misunderstood her meaning, well and good. 
She loved Hester. It was a queer worthless 
sort of love which would make no show of 
sacrifice for its object. She reasoned thus 
while Mellie was speaking. Then she looked 
from one girl to the other. 

“What startling things you say, Berenice. 
What pin have you reference to?” 

“Your heirloom with the diamond in it?” 

“Oh, that,” with an air of assumed indiffer- 
ence. “Is that the one that you have in mind? 
Yes, I found that three weeks ago. Where do 
you think I found it?” She looked about at 
the girls, but gave them no opportunity to an- 
swer. “I found it in a little box along with 
some other trinkets. The box had been put on 
the closet floor and got pushed back in the 


236 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 


corner. I was hunting about for some hooks 
and eyes and came across it quite by accident.” 

A sigh of relief was felt. The girls had been 
sitting with every muscle rigid. Now, they re- 
laxed and a buzz of laughter and talk began. 
Berenice was far more discerning than the 
other girls there. Something in Helen’s man- 
ner was beyond her comprehension. 

“Did you really know then that Hester Al- 
den had your pin and was wearing it?” 

Helen nodded brightly as she replied. No 
one noticed that she ignored the second question 
that Berenice had put to her. 

“Why, certainly, I knew that Hester had it. 
You take up very strange ideas, Berenice. I’d 
put Hester and the pin from your mind from 
this minute. I give you my word of honor 
that I knew that Hester had the pin.” 

Erma laughed delightfully. Her voice ran 
the scale and came back with an echo of 
triumph in it. Her plan had succeeded beyond 
her most sanguine expectations. 

“I have forgotten the girls,” she said, “and 
the cocoa almost gone.” Going fo the hall, she 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 237 


called to Sixty-two. “Hester Alden, are you 
and Marne going to stay there all night? The 
bell will ring in a few moments, and you will 
have no chocolate.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


F rom tMs time on, the younger set of girls 
made a point of being kind to Hester. 
Feeling that they had misjudged her they tried 
to repay by an excess of kindness. Hester was 
a responsive creature. She had no ugliness in 
her heart. Spite was a quality that had not 
entered into the composition of her character. 
So when the girls showered her with kindness, 
she responded heartily and put from her heart, 
the bitter thoughts which had been there. 

Helen, after the brave stand she had taken 
in regard to Hester, was troubled. She felt 
that she had been placed by Hester’s short- 
comings in an unpleasant position. She had 
deceived her girl friends. To be sure, she had 
not told them a word which was not strictly 
true, but they had misunderstood her and she 
knew it. To make matters worse, she had de- 
liberately constructed her sentences that they 
might be deceived and yet she was telling the 
238 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 239 


truth. Taking it all in all, it was a paradox. 
She hated deception, and Hester had placed her 
in such a position that she had been compelled 
to put a double meaning to her words. 

So the little plan which Erma had worked 
out had the effect of widening the breach be- 
tween the occupants of Sixty-two. 

Hester had been grieved by the treatment 
she had received from Helen; but after the 
choice of substitutes, sorrow gave place to 
anger at the injustice accorded her. When the 
anger had gone, a steadiness of purpose came 
to Hester. She resolved to treat Helen with 
courtesy, nothing more ; to be untouched by her 
in any way. Hester set her lips firmly and 
raised her head proudly. She had caught little 
mannerisms from Debby Alden, just as she had 
caught the principle which had actuated her 
conduct : not to cry out and let every one know 
when one is hurt. 

When she came back from the two-days’ visit 
with Aunt Debby and Miss Richards, she had 
mastered her feelings to a great extent. She 
never failed to greet Helen upon rising; she 
bade her a courteous good-night when bed-time 


240 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


came. They spoke together of little school 
affairs, but the long confidential talks had 
gone. They were well-bred strangers together 
for a time. They were spoiling the best part 
of the school year by what they pleased to 
think was their heroism. It would have been 
far easier and more fruitful of good results 
had they taken each other sharply to task, and 
blurted out what they had against each other. 
It would have been an easy matter, for each 
would have discovered that there existed no 
cause for an estrangement between them. 

Down in the city, Debby Alden was spending 
the best year of her life. She had continued 
her music until her playing had passed the 
apprentice stage. She read the classics with 
Miss Eichards. The townspeople had found 
her charming in her gracious thought for 
others. She was practical and thoroughgoing, 
and they filled her hands with church and 
charity work. Debby had not an idle, lonely 
moment. To do her justice, she gave no 
thought to what people might be thinking of 
her. She had too many thoughts outside her- 
self to give Debby Alden much thought. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 241 


She had proved the statement that it is a 
woman’s own fault if she is not beautiful by 
the time she has forty years to her credit. 
Debby’s beauty was of form and feature, and 
beyond this, the beauty which radiates from 
holding high ideals and living up to them. 
People did not merely like or admire this elder 
Miss Alden. Those words were weak to express 
the sentiment they held for her. They loved 
her, perhaps because Debby had in her heart 
an interest and love for every human creature 
that she met. Hester wisely had not mentioned 
to her aunt the little disturbance at school. 
This was partly due to unselfishness, and partly 
that there had been nothing tangible to tell. It 
would be very foolish to run and cry, “I have 
had my feelings wounded, but I do not know 
why.” Pride, too, was one of the important 
factors of her silence. She could tell no one — 
not even her dear aunt — that the girls had, 
for some reason, held her in disfavor. 

But Debby Alden had not lived with Hester 
sixteen years without understanding her. The 
girl had barely entered the cottage and re- 
moved her wraps before Debby knew that some- 


242 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


thing had gone wrong. Debby asked no ques- 
tions, according to Hester the same privileges 
she demanded for herself — to have hurts and 
wounds without being questioned concerning 
them. 

At the sight of Hester’s troubled face, Debby 
Alden’s old fears came back to her. Had some- 
one at the school brought up the subject of 
the girl’s parentage? Had someone told her 
that she had been thrown upon the world a waif, 
and none of her people had cared to look for 
her? 

Saturday evening, the three of the household 
gathered about the grate fire. Miss Richards 
had her embroidery and Debby had taken up 
a book; but neither was in the mood for work. 
Hester was filled to the brim with school. She 
was fairly bubbling over with stories of what 
the girls had done; who had been campused, 
and who had been called into the office. 

Debby Alden listened to the chatter as though 
it were the profoundest wisdom. 

“And, Aimt Debby, what do you think? I 
missed Mrs. Vail again last week. She came 
to take Helen for a ride and intended asking 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 243 


me to go with them, but Sara and I had gone 
around the campus and so I missed my ride 
and did not meet Mrs. Vail. Does it not 
seem strange, Aunt Debby, that I should always 
miss her? I fell in love with her picture, you 
know, and I was very anxious to know her. 
Don’t you think it’s very funny?” 

“I do not know that it is funny,” replied 
Debby. “It has just happened so. Does the 
young man come with his mother?” 

“Rob? Sometimes he does. He comes very 
often alone. Several times. Miss Burkham 
permitted me to go down to the reception hall 
with Helen and talk with him. Last week, 
when we had a reception, he was there, and 
he talked to me a long, long time. I think he 
is the nicest hoy I ever knew. I think he is 
nicer than Ralph Orr. Don’t you think so. 
Aunt Debby?” 

“You must remember that I met him but 
once, Hester. I liked him very much. He had 
such a nice boyish manner.” 

“Boyish. Do you know how old he is?” 

“I am sure he is under seventy,” said Debby 
with a smile. 


244 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


“Surely,” said Miss Richards in her droll, 
quiet way, “he must be younger than I am. 
I am only sixty-three.” 

Hester laughed. “You are making fun of 
me. He really isn’t a hoy. He is twenty-one 
and a senior in a Medical School. My, but he 
has strong nerves! I asked him if it didn’t 
make him tremble to see the surgeons cut the 
flesh from one. He said it never phased him. 
That was his expression — ^never ‘phased’ him. 
I rather like the expression. It sounds just 
like what you might expect from a college boy. 
Don’t you think so?” 

“I never knew college boys,” began Debby 
Alden, but stopped suddenly. She remembered 
in time that James Baker had been a college 
boy. “ — I never knew many, not enough to 
know what language to expect of them. ’ ’ 

Hester had not caught the hesitancy in Miss 
Alden ’s speech. Miss Richards had and looked 
up in time to see another Debby Alden than 
the Debby she had always known. This Debby 
had the flush of sixteen years in her cheeks 
and the tender light of day-dreams in her eyes. 

Just a moment, Debby Alden sat thus. Then 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 245 


the woman came back where the girl had been. 
“What more?” she asked Hester. “Of what 
else does this wonderful lad talk?” 

“Everything, Aunt Debby. I really do not 
believe there is a subject that he cannot talk 
upon.” 

The women could not restrain a smile at 
this girlish exhibition of the confidence of 
youth. 

“He’s traveled and he’s been in school, and 
he is an athlete. He told me a great deal about 
school life. That was while we talked together 
at the reception. Helen was surprised that 
he talked so long to me. She says that he 
generally speaks to everyone for a few minutes 
and then goes. He must have talked to me a 
half an hour.” 

“And then he went home?” suggested Debby. 
Hester blushed. “No, Miss Burkham came up 
and said that I must remember there were 
other guests who demanded some of my time, 
and I had to excuse myself.” 

Debby Alden in her thoughts gave thanks to 
Miss Burkham. 

Hester continued her chatter. She needed 


246 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


no encouragement for when she was once on 
a subject she generally threshed it so thor- 
oughly that nothing but chatf remained. 

“But Robert told me that he generally said 
but a few words to each lady present and then 
went home. But somehow from the very first, 
he said I did not seem a stranger to ’him. He 
felt that he had always known me. That was 
why he sat so long and talked with me and I 
wish that Miss Burkham would have attended 
to something else then, and let me alone.” 

This was said in the most childlike, guileless 
manner. Debby Alden almost gasped for 
breath. She was about to remonstrate at the 
expression of such opinions when a glance 
from Miss Richards restrained her. That 
lady was not at all alarmed, only amused at 
Hester’s talk. 

“But Eva does not know all I know,” said 
Debby to herself. “If she did, she would 
find it no laughing matter.” 

When Hester had gone to bed, leaving 
Debby and Miss Richards yet at the fireside, 
the latter took up the conversation. 

“You are needlessly alarmed, Debby. There 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 247 


is not a bit of danger about Hester’s having 
her head turned. She looks upon Robert just 
as she did upon Ralph. He is a good com- 
panion. That is all. Perhaps, she is a little 
flattered by having a college boy notice her at 
all. I remember when I went to school, I did 
the same thing. If a cadet spoke with us, we 
held our heads high and if he asked us to 
dance, our heads were turned. We really cared 
not at all for the cadets, but the uniforms were 
very handsome. That was fifty years ago, 
Debby Alden, and girls have not changed one 
whit.” 

She smiled as she thought of the old school 
days. She was far enough away from them 
now to know what was mere childish pleasure 
which had left its pleasant fragrance clinging 
to all the years between. 

“Nevertheless, no one knows what may re- 
sult from these conversations. I shall speak 
to Hester.” 

“My dear Debby, I beg that you consider 
and do nothing of the sort. Hester is a child 
with no thought of being anything else. Why 
should you put other thoughts into her head? 


248 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


You will do just such a thing if you discuss 
the subject further with her. Let her talk 
with the young man at the reception if she 
wishes to and Miss Burkham does not object.” 

“She appeared so much interested. I am 
afraid — ” 

“Nonsense. You would hedge Hester about 
with your fears. It is just a wholesome girlish 
interest which is right and proper for one 
normal young person to show in another. 
Had it been otherwise, Hester would not have 
talked so freely.” 

Yet, Debby was not satisfied. “You know 
that very serious love affairs are started in 
just such a boy-and-girl fashion.” 

“Surely. I know it. I know also that I do 
not think it altogether a bad fashion. Robert 
Vail, if I read him right, is an excellent young 
man. The Vails are people who are above re- 
proach. So what cause would you have to 
complain, Debby Alden, if these half-hour talks 
should be taken seriously?” 

“In the abstract, your ideas are worth 
while,” said Debby. She could not laugh at 
the matter as Miss Richards was doing. “But 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 249 


in the concrete, they are wrong from beginning 
to end, and cannot be applied to Hester’s case. 
Hester must never marry. Knowing that, I 
intend to keep her from falling in love, for I 
would not have her be unhappy.” 

There was tragedy in her voice which Miss 
Richards saw fit to ignore. 

“At the same time, keep the rain from falling 
and the days from growing shorter. One is 
as easily done as the other. You will pardon 
my frankness, Debby, but I think you are about 
to make a mistake with Hester. You may re- 
strain and educate her to a certain extent, but 
•you cannot control her thoughts or her emo- 
tions. No one can do that for another. Guide 
Hester as far as your power lies; advise and 
admonish her, but she must live her own life; 
make her own mistakes and shed her own tears 
over them. You and your love must not shield 
her from that. She is herself to make of her- 
self what she will. 

“I cannot understand why you should wish 
her not to marry. In my mind, it is a fitting 
state for men and women, else the Lord would 
not have sanctioned it.” 


250 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Debby could make no answer to this. Miss 
Richards bent over her needlework. She and 
Debby in all their years of intimacy, had but 
once before discussed the question. It had 
been Hester and Hester’s future which had 
brought it up. The two women sat in silence 
for some minutes, when Debby said, “You can- 
not understand in what way life must be 
different for my girl. You do not understand 
and I cannot explain.” 

“Very well. But bear this in mind, Debby. 
You must not take the responsibility too heavily 
upon yourself. You are able to do a limited 
amount. There is a greater power in Hester 
Alden’s life, than you. It is omnipotent and 
has a greater conception of life than your 
feeble mind can grasp.” 

“I know,” said Debby humbly. “I am able 
to do so little. I cannot save my little girl all 
the bruises and hard places. She must bear 
them herself.” 

“And you should not if you could. Do not 
worry about Hester’s being able to bear them. 
She has a courageous spirit and indomitable 
will.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 251 


Silence came again. Miss Richards worked 
on the center-piece she was embroidering. 
Debhy leaned back in her chair. Her eyes 
rested upon the dying coals of the grate. Hes- 
ter’s childlike chatter had started her thinking 
on matters she tried to keep back in her mem- 
ory. She blushed at her foolishness. Her 
practical business-like mind looked with scorn 
upon day-dreams — such day-dreams as came to 
her then, as she sat with her eyes on the grate. 
She could not smile at Hester’s talk of Rob 
Vail’s wonderful attainments. It touched too 
deeply. She had thought the same of Jim 
Baker that winter he took her to the spelling- 
bees. He had been a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed 
boy who had ambitions. She had listened to 
his stories of the work he meant to do and she 
looked upon him as the most wonderful person 
in the world. But that had happened over 
twenty years ago, and she was very foolish to 
think of it at all. 

Miss Richards worked in silence. At last 
when Debby Alden brought herself back from 
her day-dreams, her companion addressed her. 

“When Miss Loraine was here, Debby, did 


252 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


you observe tbe resemblance between ber and 
Hester?” 

“Did I? I most assuredly did. Tbe like- 
ness was so strong that I almost exclaimed 
aloud when Helen stepped from tbe car. Sbe 
was my Hester, with just a little difference.” 

“You passed tbe subject over so lightly that 
I thought you bad not observed what I bad.” 

“I passed over it lightly because I did not 
wish to disturb Hester. Sbe knows sbe does 
not belong to my people ; I would not have her 
know more, nor would I have ber disturbed 
by commenting on tbe likeness. 

‘ ‘ Tbe likeness between ber and Helen did not 
startle me as much as a little mannerism which 
I noticed in ber cousin. Did you observe 
Robert’s way of looking at one while that one 
was talking? He had the appearance of being 
absorbed with interest, and so impatient to bear 
all that was to be said that he might be tempted 
to pull the words from one’s mouth.” 

Debby laughed softly at her words. “That 
is rather a peculiar way of expressing myself, 
but that is the impression he gave me. I have 
seen Hester sit so, listening. Time and time 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


253 


again, I have smiled at her intenseness, and I 
have chided her for it. I have no doubt that 
Robert Vail is an excellent young man. He 
looks it. If I read him right, he’s inclined to 
be ‘set’ in his way. I do not doubt that if he 
thought a course of action was right and de- 
cided to follow it, he would be flayed before 
he could be compelled to give up. I have 
noticed that same tendency in Hester. She is 
what I call ‘set’ and always has been.” 

“Debby, do you think for a moment that 
Hester had to go far from home to find her 
example? Your dearest enemies could never 
accuse you of vacillating. You are what your 
people were before you. You’re ‘set’ Debby 
— quite set. 

“It is not a lack of virtue in one. On the 
contrary, I admire it. I have little sympathy 
for the one who moves with every passing in- 
fluence. In my friendships, I find myself lean- 
ing toward folk who are ‘set.’ ” 

The gentle kindliness in the speaker’s voice 
and smile made every word she said seem like 
a caress. 

“I should be very glad, Debby,” continued 


254 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Miss Richards, “that Hester has that virtue. 
Wax melts under any influence; but if iron is 
molded right you have something stable. You 
have given Hester high ideals, and I have no 
fear that she will be influenced from them.” 

“I had no thoughts of criticising,” cried 
Dehby quickly. “I am glad that my Hester 
is as she is. I would not have her different. 
I was remarking about the resemblance in man- 
ner and disposition between, her and Robert 
Vail. She looks like Helen, hut she is like 
Robert. ’ ’ 

“Ho you think there might be relationship, 
Dehby? If there be one, Hester would not 
blush to claim such kin. The Vails and 
Loraines are fine folk — fine in the highest 
sense that I can use the word. 

“You told me several years ago, that you 
knew more of Hester’s family than you had 
given out. You told me no more than that, 
and I do not ask to know more now. But it 
came to me that they might he bound to Ples- 
ter by ties of blood. Surely such a resem- 
blance cannot come by mere chance.” 

‘ ‘ There are no blood ties there, ’ ’ cried Dehby 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 255 


Alden. “I am sure of that. No, do not mis- 
understand me. I would not be jealous of 
them were they her kin. I should rejoice to 
know she was of such a family and the anxiety 
which I have borne in secret would leave me. 
No, Hester is not of the Loraine or Vail 
blood.” 

Arising from her place at the grate, she 
moved away to the end of the room and stood 
looking out on the white earth. After a few 
minutes’ struggle with herself, she came back 
to where Miss Richards sat, “Eva, cannot your 
imagination fill out what I cannot tell? You 
know there are conditions of blood and family 
which bear a stain which generations cannot 
eradicate. Poor Hester, innocent and brilliant 
as she is, bears that mark. You know why 
I wish to make her independent and self-sus- 
taining. Those from which she sprung are be- 
neath her; and she dare not bring the affliction 
of her people upon those higher. You see why 
I must guard her. She must do as you and I 
have done — though not for the same reason. 
She must be alone all her life. I want you to 
help me in this.” 


256 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“As I have always done, and always will,” 
said her friend. “My heartstrings cling about 
Hester, too. I love her almost as much as you 
do, Debby Alden.” 

While the conversation was being carried on, 
Hester Alden lay in the room above not wholly 
unconscious that her aunt and friend were dis- 
cussing her. Now and then a word came to 
her; but she closed her ears tight to shut out 
the slightest sound. 

“Aunt Debby is talking about my people and 
I must not hear. She said once that what she 
told me was all she cared to have me know, 
so I must not hear this.” 

She shut the sound of voices from her ears. 
If Aunt Debby did not wish her to know, that 
ended it as far as Hester’s desire to know was 
concerned. 

Debby Alden was troubled in her thoughts 
about Hester all that winter term; for she 
knew that something lay heavy on Hester’s 
heart. The girl continued her studies, took 
her part in the social life of the seminary, and 
played basket-ball with all her energy; yet her 
heart was sore because the breach between 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 257 


Helen and her had not been bridged. The 
seminary life was fine — but Helen had been 
the biggest part of it to Hester. 

The river had been frozen over since the 
first of the year. The students who could 
skate, used the ice for an outside gymnasium 
under the chaperonage of the little German 
teacher. Helen did not skate and preferred 
the routine of the regular physical culture 
course. Hester, on the contrary, could have 
lived on skates, as far as her desire and lack 
of muscular weariness was concerned. 

The difference in choice of exercise separated 
the girls yet further. The skating was like a 
tonic to Hester. She could not be dull, de- 
pressed, or anxious after an hour on the ice. 
She missed Helen’s companionship less than 
before. While Helen was brought to realize 
that it was not a passing fancy she had held 
toward Hester, but genuine affection and she 
missed her companionship more and more. 

The winter held on until late. The week 
preceding Easter Sunday, the spring thaw set 
in and the river came up and over the ice. 

“We’ll have an ice-jam and a good one,” 


258 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


laughed Erma. “Last spring the cakes piled 
as high as the old apple tree. The ice broke 
just at tea-time and the river was floating with 
it until morning. Doctor Weldon allowed us 
to watch until bed-time. It was simply gor- 
geous. Great white blocks would rise high in 
the air and then crumble into powder. I think 
we’ll have a had jam this spring.” Erma 
danced away, overjoyed at the prospect of 
something to break the routine. 

The following Saturday, the rain fell all day. 
The building was gray and cheerless. It was 
the time of year when homesickness is preva- 
lent at school. The girls were dull and sat 
about silent in the parlor or idly turning over 
magazines in the library. 

In the chapel a chorus of girls were being 
drilled. “What are they preparing for?” 
asked Hester of Sara. 

“You are new, so I cannot tell you. Wait 
and find out,” was the reply. 

At tea-time the same heaviness of spirits 
hung over the dining-hall. Suddenly, a creak- 
ing sound was heard and a crush as though 
of breaking timber. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 259 


“The ice!” cried Erma. Her voice was dis- 
tinctly heard throughout the large dining- 
hall. 

Fortunately, they were at the dessert and 
Doctor Weldon excused them immediately. 
They were warned to fortify themselves with 
wraps against the weather. In a few moments, 
they had hurried to their rooms and were back 
again in raincoats, overshoes, and Tam-o- 
Shanters. 

The Fraulein loved the storm. She and 
Miss Laird were the only two of the faculty 
who could he induced to leave the building. 
The rain was falling softly. The Fraulein led 
the way across the campus to the edge of the 
river. The water had risen six feet since 
morning, and had encroached upon the campus, 
and gurgled about the trunk of the old orchard 
trees. The ice jammed back on the shore, forc- 
ing the girls to retreat. Great cakes arose as 
a perpendicular, balanced for an instant and 
fell to pieces, or crushed against the trees 
until they groaned and bent under the strain. 
All the while the growling and seething and 
gurgling of the water was heard above all. 


260 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


It was glorious. Little wonder that Erma had 
anticipated this with delight. 

The lights about the building were the only 
ones on the campus. The shadows were heavy 
where the girls stood along shore. Hester, to 
whom this scene was never old, although she 
had seen it every year of her life, stood en- 
tranced. Her umbrella had been tilted back 
and the rain beat down on her face, but she 
knew it not. She was unconscious of the 
chatter about her. She could not have talked. 
The river and noise and jamming ice held her 
spellbound. 

Helen observed her as she stood so and be- 
lieved that she was sad. Going up to where 
Hester was, Helen stood beside her, but no at- 
tention whatever was paid to her. Then she 
laid her hand lightly on Hester’s arm. The 
result was the same. Hester stood with her 
eyes fixed upon the river, and made no re- 
sponse to the overture of friendship. Then 
Helen turned away, feeling that she had been 
repulsed. 

When the heaviest flow had passed, the 
Fraulein took the girls back to the building. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 261 


Helen went directly to her room to look over 
the evening mail ; but Hester lingered with the 
Fraulein who was vainly trying to describe the 
flood which she had witnessed in her own little 
German village. 

When Hester at length entered Sixty-two, 
Helen had read her letters and was standing 
by the study-table in deep thought. She looked 
at Hester a little wistfully. 

“I had a letter from our pastor at home,” 
she said, turning to Hester. “You have heard 
me speak of Dr. James Baker?” 

“Yes, I have,” replied Hester and took up 
her work. One could not begin a conversation 
on so little encouragement. Helen took up the 
letter from her pastor and read it a second 
time. He wrote to her as he did to all the ab- 
sent young people whose church home was his 
church. He brought to their attention, the 
coming Sabbath, and reminded them that it 
should mean much to them. He suggested that 
they too, lay aside the old life with its troubles 
and its shortcomings and arise with new ideals 
and a new spirit. He had expressed himself 
finely. Helen, who was sympathetic, was 


262 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


touched by bis words. Sbe would put aside tbe 
old life. Sbe would begin that instant to for- 
get all that bad passed and begin anew even ber 
friendship with Hester. 

Hester, fortified by ber pride and tbe resolu- 
tion sbe bad made some weeks before, sat at 
ber table writing. For weeks sbe had given 
Helen no opportunity for more than a passing 
word. 

“This letter from Doctor Baker is beauti- 
ful,” began Helen. “He is as good as be 
writes. He has been our pastor for fifteen 
years — more perhaps. Will you read it, Hes- 
ter? It may do you good. It has me.” 

“Perhaps I do not need it,” was the curt re- 
ply. “And perhaps Doctor Baker might ob- 
ject to a third party reading bis letters.” 

“Nonsense. He would be delighted. Will 
you read it?” 

“No, I thank you,” said Hester, proudly. 
Then sbe added. “I may be beyond being 
reached, you know.” 

Her tone was sharp. It caused Helen to 
cease from further importunity. 

“Very well, Hester. If you do not wish to. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 263 


I shall not insist.” She laid the letter aside. 

“It will be the very last time, I shall try to 
make up with Hester,” she said to herself 
“She never really cared for me, or she would 
see that I wish to be friends. But she does 
not care.” 

When the half-hour bell rang, the girls be- 
gan their preparation for bed without a word 
to each other. Since the first days of their 
misunderstanding, their politeness toward each 
other was so marked as to be burdensome. 

They excused and begged pardon each time 
their paths crossed. The same formality was 
continued now. There was no conversation, al- 
though both were talkers and their heads were 
buzzing with the things they would like to have 
said. 

When the retiring bell sounded, there was 
a short “Good-night, Hester,” and as short a 
response, “Good-night, Helen.” 

There were to be sunrise services in the 
chapel at which every student was required to 
be present. But before that time, Hester was 
awakened by voices far in the distance. She 
sat up in bed to listen. The gray of the Easter 


264 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


morning was stealing through the window. 
The voices came nearer and nearer. At last 
she could distinguish the words. 

“Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen. He hath burst 
His bounds in twain. 

Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen! Alleluia, swell 
the strain.” 

It was the chorus of girls. This had long 
been the custom of the school, to wake the pu- 
pils by song on Easter morning. 

The voices drew nearer. The singers paused 
at the landing of the stair. Hester could dis- 
tinguish Erma’s loud, clear notes which soared 
upward like a bird and floated over all. 

“Alleluia, Alleluia, swell the strain.” 

The spirit of the Easter morn came to Hester. 

There was peace and joy. She wished for 
that. She really had not had it for weeks. 
While the song rose and fell, her heart softened 
toward Helen. She would make up with her. 
She would ask to he forgiven and he friends 
again. She crept out of bed and went to 
Helen’s bed, hut Helen had gone to make one 
of the Easter Wakening Chorus. 


CHAPTEE XIV 


P EOSEKPINA had returned to earth again. 

The evidence of her visit was everywhere. 
The campus had turned into green velvet; the 
pussy willows were soft as chinchillas ; the ap- 
ple trees were in leaf, and just about to blos- 
som. These were the signs of spring every- 
where. In addition to these, the seminary had 
a sign which appealed to it alone. The man 
with the ice-cream cart had appeared. For 
several days, his cart had been hacked against 
the curb of the campus and the sound of his 
bell was like the music of the hand-organ to 
the girls. It was a bluebird and a robin — the 
harbingers of spring to them. 

May came and was quickly passing. The 
girls were talking caps and gowns and di- 
plomas. The seniors went about with a su- 
perior air; the juniors were little better for 
they had a classday at least. The freshmen 
and sophomores, in the plans for commencement 
265 


266 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


week, were but tbe fifth wheel to a wagon. 
They were ignored. If they offered sugges- 
tions they were snubbed, and informed, not too 
gently, that they could not be expected to know 
anything abont such matters — being new to 
the ways of commencement. 

Though they had neither commencement, 
class day, nor play, the freshmen and sopho- 
mores did not lose spirit. What was not theirs 
by rights, they meant to make theirs by foul 
means and strategy. 

It had long been the custom of the seniors 
to follow the commencement proper with a ban- 
quet. This included only members of the 
senior class. The Alumnae banquet took place 
later and was in the hands of old students who 
had long since left the seminary. Among these 
were the wives of judges, physicians, bankers — 
people with whom the freshmen and sopho- 
mores dare not interfere, though it would have 
been an easy matter to have taken this Alumnae 
Banquet, for there was no one on hand to 
guard it. The menu and serving were wholly 
in the hands of a caterer from the city. 

Knowing that the affairs of the Alumnae 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 267 


must not be tampered with, the freshmen 
turned all their energies toward the seniors and 
juniors. 

The juniors were to give a play. The cos- 
tumes were to he rented for the occasion. The 
play itself was zealously guarded lest it he 
stolen. Erma, whose talent lay in a histrionic, 
direction, had charge of the copies of the drama. 
Erma had talent but no forethought. She put 
the pamphlets in the place most suited to them. 
Hester, who had been sent out by her class as 
a scout to find what she could of the plans of 
the juniors, discovered the books the first day ; 
and not only the books but the names of the 
juniors and the parts which each was to take. 
Hester reported immediately the results of her 
investigation. The following day, while Erma 
was engaged elsewhere the play disappeared, 
was hurriedly copied by the freshmen and re- 
placed. Not a member of the junior class, so 
the freshmen believed, was aware of what took 
place and was not the wiser that the freshmen 
had begun the preparation of the same play. 

“We can outdo them,” said Louise at the 
class-meeting. “The play is booked for Tues- 


268 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


day evening. Monday evening is the band con- 
cert and promenade from seven o’clock until 
eight-thirty. After that, the freshmen class will 
have the floor and we’ll give the play before 
the juniors. Their efforts will fall flat on 
Tuesday evening.” 

“But the costumes!” exclaimed Hester. 
“What will we do for them?” 

“Borrow them from the juniors when they 
are from their rooms. We will need them but 
one evening. We’ll return them as fresh as 
ever the following morning.” 

“Will they lend them?” It was a little first 
term girl who asked the question. 

“No, you dear little freshie, they will not 
lend them if they can help themselves. We will 
ask them Tuesday morning and use them Mon- 
day. It is the safest way,” said Emma, who 
was exceedingly enthusiastic over this part of 
school life. While at home, she had read vol- 
umes on the subject of life at a boarding school. 
From the impression left by those books, life 
at school was one succession of receptions, 
public meetings, and practical jokes. Disci- 
pline and lessons were in the undercurrent of 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 269 


life. Life at Dickinson had been wholly dif- 
ferent from what Emma had anticipated. 
This stealing of the junior play and present- 
ing it before the juniors had the opportunity, 
appealed to Emma. This was more in the or- 
der of the books she had read. 

Louise sat up on the rostrum, appointing 
the students to their parts. She looked at 
Emma quizzingly, “About your part, Emma,” 
she began. 

“I know what I want to be. Let me be 
queen. I’d dearly love to put my hair up and 
wear a train.” 

“You! The queen!” the girls laughed in 
scorn. “You never would have dignity 
enough for that. What you should he is a 
Dutch doll that moves with a spring.” 

“I could do the queen part — ,” she began. 

“Hush, hush. You are talking too loud. 
Some one is coming.” 

Footsteps were heard along the stair. The 
door opened and Renee put her head in. 

“Are you there, Louise?’’ she asked. “Do 
you object to my taking your umbrella? My 
roommate has gone otf leaving mine locked in 


270 HESTEB’S COUNTERPART 


the closet, and I’ve permission to go down 
town.” 

“Yes, yes, take it,” cried Louise. Renee 
closed the door and disappeared. 

“I’m suspicious of that umbrella,” said 
Edna. “I think Renee was sent up here to see 
what we were about.” 

“No, I’d he suspicious of any one hut Renee. 
She wished the umbrella. I am sure of that.” 

“But why should she need it this afternoon. 
There is not the slightest suggestion of rain 
and the sun is not bright.” 

“Because, she couldn’t go without borrowing 
something,” said Louise. “It wouldn’t be 
Renee if she could. I suppose she looked about 
and an umbrella was the only thing she did 
not have at hand, so that was the only thing 
she could borrow.” 

Eventually the parts were given out and 
partly learned. The girls had planned for a 
rehearsal the first week in June. The fact that 
everything had to be done under cover from the 
juniors, made the practice drag. They could 
assemble only at such hours when the juniors 
were in class, and the chapel vacant. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 271 


The sophomores, confident that the freshmen 
alone would be able to manage the juniors, 
turned their attention to the seniors. Their 
plan was to divert the banquet from the din- 
ing-hall to one of the society halls, and feast 
upon it while the seniors went wailing in search 
of it. 

Their plans were developing nicely when the 
weather saw fit to interfere. The last day of 
May, which fell on Tuesday, set in with a soft, 
fine rain. This was nothing alarming in itself, 
had it performed its work and gone its way. 
But it lingered all day, all night and when Wed- 
nesday morning broke dull and gray, the vol- 
ume of water had increased, and was coming 
steadily down. Thursday was but a repeti- 
tion of Wednesday. The rain did not cease 
for an instant. The sun never showed his 
face. 

The river had crept up gradually until the 
water was licking the trunks of the apple trees ; 
but this was not alarming. The ice flood had 
been higher; and further back on the campus 
were the marks of the flood of ’48, the highest 
flood ever known along the river. Even then 


272 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


the water had not touched the building. There 
was nothing at all to be alarmed by the river’s 
rising. 

After the afternoon’s recitations, the girls 
went down to the river’s edge, although the 
rain poured down upon them. They were 
learning the tricks of the old river men. They 
stuck sticks in the edge of the water to mark 
the rise or fall. 

“It’s risen over a foot since lunch time,” 
cried Erma. “See, there is my marker. You 
can just see it. Think of it — a foot. What 
will become of us?” 

“It will rise twenty feet before we need give 
it a thought,” said Hester. She had been 
reared along the river and had no fear of it. 
She loved it in any form it could assume — 
tranquil and quiet — frozen and white — rolling 
and bleak and sullen. In every form, she 
recognized only the beautiful and knew no rea- 
son to fear. 

“But if it should rise twenty-five?” cried 
Erma. She was running about excitedly like 
a water-sprite. Her red sweater gleamed in 
the sullen gray light. The rain was trickling 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 273 


from her Tam-o-Shanter ; but she was oblivious 
of all, save tbe far remote danger. 

“Ob, wbat if it should come up twenty-five 
feet!” she continued asking as she ran along 
tbe shore. 

“Ob, wbat if tbe world should come to an 
end!” retorted tbe girls in derision. 

Tbe gong in tbe main ball sounded. 

“I knew it,” cried Emma. “I knew Doctor 
Weldon would not allow us to be out long. 
She’s dreadfully careful of us. Now, wbat 
barm can a little bit of water do to anyone?” 
Emma shook her bushy, curly locks. 

“Nothing, when one’s hair curls naturally. 
But it can do a lot when one’s hair is straight. 
Look at mine.” Marne sighed dismally. 
“Did you ever see such locks? Every one as 
straight as a poker. I wish, just for once, I 
could look like other girls.” 

Josephine was standing in tbe ball, waiting 
when the little group of girls entered. 

“Have you been in all tbe time?” asked Hes- 
ter. “How could you? Tbe river is fine and 
getting higher and higher each moment. You 
shouldn’t miss such a sight as this.” 


274 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“I have not missed it,” was the reply, given 
while the speaker’s eyes took a soulful upward 
glance. “I cannot enjoy nature with people 
laughing and talking about me. I must be 
alone and commune with it. I have stood here 
watching from the window. What a beautiful 
and yet a terrible scene it is. I feel uplifted.” 

‘‘I wish I felt the same way — uplifted to 
the extent of two flights of stairs,” said Hes- 
ter. She had not meant to be funny, but the 
girls laughed. Josephine turned upon her a 
hurt, aggrieved look. But just for a moment, 
then she smiled and said gently, “Hester, you 
little water-sprite! How can you jest when 
nature is at war?” 

Edna Bucher was another student who would 
not brave the elements. She stood at the hall 
window where the stairway makes a turn. She 
was dressed in very somber clothes, guiltless 
of curves or graces. She did not look with 
favor upon girls’ trudging out in the storm. 
It had in it the element of tom-hoyism upon 
which Miss Bucher looked with alarm. 

“No, I did not go,” she said meekly and 
apologetically. “I was brought up to think it 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 275 


wasn’t ladylike to go out in all kinds of 
weather; ladies don’t do it. It is just what 
you would expect of a man.” 

The hearers replied not a word. They did 
not so much as shrug their shoulders or glance 
at each other. But each girl resolved at that 
minute, if being hearty and hale and fearless 
were unladylike, from that moment they would 
be that very thing. 

The weather soon had its effect upon the 
spirits of the girls. Gayety in the dormitories 
and parlors was reduced to the minimum. 
Pupils stood silent at windows, gazing out at 
the steady downpour. Where they did gather 
in groups of three or four, there was no laugh- 
ing or bright talk. Just a word now and then, 
and a low reply. At intervals, someone grew 
intolerant and expressed herself. “Will this 
rain never stop?” “I was hoping it would 
clear so that we might go into town.” 

Their hopes were doomed to disappointment. 
The rain never ceased for one instant during 
the night and all day Friday. 

At lunch time Friday, the girls ran out on 
the campus to see what had become of their 


276 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


markers of the evening before. They were 
gone. The water had come over them and 
moved up in the campus until it touched the 
cannae-beds. 

“The flowers will be ruined!” cried the girls. 
As though to prove the truth of the statement, 
a tongue of water curled itself softly about the 
plants, sucked deep into the roots, and when 
it went its way, the cannaes went with it, and 
only a hollow was left in the great bed, and this 
was quickly filled with water. 

“It has risen three feet since last evening,” 
said Hester, who had been standing silent, es- 
timating the distance. There were exclama- 
tions of wonder, surprise, and fear. To many, 
three feet of a rise in water meant no more 
than a Creek syllable. They had not been 
reared near a river, and knew nothing of what 
might be expected in the way of floods. 

“Three feet is nothing,” said Hester with 
the air of one who knew all there was to k n ow 
of such matters. “Why, a June flood is gen- 
erally seven feet at home. We do not think 
much about it. And September floods — we do 
not always have them, but we wouldn’t think 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 277 


of calling it a flood unless tlie river rose at 
least five feet. Three feet since yesterday! 
That is really nothing at all. I hope it will go 
five feet higher before night.” 

It was all braggadocio on her part; but it 
had the desired effect. Erma screamed in ter- 
ror; Emma’s eyes grew big; Marne scolded her 
soundly for expressing such a wish. For a 
while she had a hornet’s nest about her ears. 

Early Friday afternoon, a change came. 
Before, the rain had come down steady and con- 
stant. Now it came in a stream, as though the 
floors from a great reservoir had given way 
and the water had fallen in one great body. 

There was no going out in this. An umbrella 
was no protection whatever, for the rain came 
through as water through a sieve. After din- 
ner, the girls stood in the windows which over- 
looked the river and watched the water as it 
crept up, so slowly the eye could not recognize 
its advance. 

The trunks of the apple trees were hidden 
from view. The water was muddy and foam- 
ing. The current had increased until the veloc- 
ity was ten times that of normal. There was a 


278 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


sullen roar, and tearing as tliougli the banks 
were giving way. Some logs were running, but 
not many. Tbe breast of tbe water was cov- 
ered witb drift. At intervals, large branches 
of trees went down. Once a great oak, roots, 
trunk and all, sailed close to tbe apple tree and 
almost tore it from tbe earth. A walk, a 
piece of fence, a chicken coop, or a dog-kennel 
went bobbing along their watery way. Some 
distance below, yet in sight of tbe school, was 
tbe county bridge. It bad been built in tbe 
early history of tbe country. It was a big, 
clumsy-looking affair of wood witb a shingled 
roof and board sides. Now, entrances were 
cut off by a wide stream. It stood alone, like 
an isolated being; its weather-beaten sides, look- 
ing gray against tbe brown of tbe muddy water. 

Tbe sight of tbe river was growing awful, 
yet it attracted and held tbe girls. Tbe study 
bell rang unheeded. Miss Burkbam came from 
her room to call their attention to tbe study 
hours. 

As tbe girls from tbe east wing crossed tbe 
main ball in order to reach their rooms, they 
saw Doctor Weldon in earnest conversation 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 279 


with Marshall, the office boy ; Belva, the man-of- 
all work, and Herman who acted as night-watch- 
man. 

“I do not anticipate a bit of trouble,” she 
was saying. “But telegrams came into the 
city from Reno, thirty miles above, that there 
was a twenty-foot flood there and still rising. 
They’ve sent warning all down the river. 

“I have heard that alarm sounded ever since 
I have been at the seminary. It is always a 
twenty-foot flood and the word always comes 
from Reno. Either those people have no idea 
of a foot measure or their imaginations have 
been over stimulated.” She spoke slowly yet 
with conviction, as one who has been accus- 
tomed to having their slighest word obeyed. 
The three men had been at the seminary andt 
in her service for ten years. They adored her 
and accepted her word as final. 

“However, Herman, you keep a close watch. 
Do not let the water reach the drive without 
warning us. We will not run any risks. If 
you wish to have Belva and Marshall with you, 
well and good. I shall ask the matron to have 
a lunch prepared for you.” 


280 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


There was little possibility of danger. 
Should the water creep up from the river, even 
to the west side of the dormitory, a great wing 
extended to the east and avenues of escape 
would remain open. 

The girls overheard Doctor Weldon’s words. 
They were not alarmed. They understood the 
conditions perfectly. Should the water come 
near the west wing, a thing which had never 
yet occurred even in the famous flood of ’48, 
there could be no immediate danger. They 
were excited with the prospect of the unusual 
happening. Since it had rained for flve days 
against their express wishes, they would feel 
themselves aggrieved if no compensation, in 
the form of an unusual experience, was offered 
them. 

The fact that it was Friday night, and that 
the week had been one which had been void of 
relaxation or amusement in any way, moved 
the preceptress to shorten the study hour and 
lengthen the time for recreation. 

But the students would not get away from 
the weather and the flood. Little groups of 
four and six came together and discussed floods. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 281 


from the Noachean down to the one of ’48. 
The girls had no personal knowledge of any 
high water, but they handed down the folk-lore 
as it had come to them. 

Some were particularly fine in giving detail, 
and making weird, strange scenes so real that 
their hearers were deeply affected. Erma had 
this power in a great measure, and Hester, to 
some extent. By the time they had related 
several stories, the girls in Sixty-two were shiv- 
ering with nervous fear. 

“Oh, you silly little geese!” cried Erma. 
“Why, you are actually shivering over some- 
thing which happened in my great-grandfath- 
er’s time!” 

“But you make it so real! You and Hester 
talk as if it happened but yesterday,” said 
Mellie. 

“Certainly, that is what we try to do,” Erma 
laughed, and seizing Mellie by the hand, drew 
her up from the floor where she had been sit- 
ting. “That is what will make us famous. I 
shall be a great actress and Hester a great 
writer.” 

Hester heard and blushed. She wondered 


282 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


how Erma knew of her day-dreams for she 
had mentioned them to no one. 

“Come, peaches,” cried Erma. “I’ll take 
you back to your rooms. If I do not, you all 
will have nervous prostration, sitting here lis- 
tening to such stories.” 

“I do not know when Erma is complimenting 
me,” said Mellie as she followed. “Sometimes 
I am ‘silly goose’ and sometimes I am 
‘peaches.’ Now when am I which, and why?” 

Erma laughed again. “Oh, you silly goose, 
don’t you know you’re peaches all the time with 
me?” 

The girls departed. It was yet early, yet 
Helen and Hester prepared for bed. Each 
was deliberately slow. Their paths crossed 
and recrossed as they moved from one part 
of the room to the other, yet not a word was 
said until Hester reached to turn off the light. 
Then came the customary good-night. 


CHAPTEE XV 


T HEEE was no danger of the river rising 
to such an extent that the building would 
be surrounded and communication cut off. 
Such a thing would be impossible! But Doc- 
tor Weldon had forgotten to reckon with the 
creek which flowed on the opposite side of town 
and joined the river at the east end. It had 
risen as rapidly as the river and had come over 
the hanks and was creeping in upon them. 

Hester awakened suddenly. It was early 
morning for the gray lights were shining in at 
the windows. The rain had ceased. The first 
thought which came to her was that of thank- 
fulness. Now they could have a clear Saturday 
and he out of doors without being drenched to 
the skin. 

It was not raining but there was a peculiar 
gurgling sound of water. Helen also heard it 
and sat up in bed. 

“Do you hear that, Hester? What is it?” 
“It is something outside, I’ll see.” As she 
283 


284 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


spoke she had left her bed and hurried to the 
window. Her exclamation brought Helen to 
her. There was no need to ask for explana- 
tion. Beech Creek had backed in from a mile 
beyond, and was lapping against the stone 
foundation. The water was moving over the 
campus. Nowhere was it more than an inch 
deep; but on each side lay the greater depths 
of the river and the creek. 

“Let us get dressed at once!” cried Hester. 

“Yes, let us go downstairs,” replied Helen. 
She was not so excited as Hester, yet she was 
more afraid. Hester knew the river and loved 
it. Now her excitement did not spring from 
fear, but from a kind of enjoyment. 

They slipped into their clothes and made 
themselves as presentable as possible and hur- 
ried downstairs. At the front entrance was a 
group of girls. Some were standing on the 
lower step, which was a single piece of granite. 
The water was lapping but a few inches below. 
While they talked and laughed, some hysteric- 
ally, the water crept up and lapped upon the 
lower step. The girls moved higher. Five 
steps led to the entrance, which was on the level 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


285 


of the first floor. Then the breakfast bell 
sounded and the girls reluctantly went into the 
dining-room. 

While they were standing with their hands on 
the back of their respective chairs, awaiting 
the signal from the principal, she addressed 
them. 

“Young ladies, you will be served with plain 
fare this morning. Perhaps, you do not know 
that the butcher, the baker, the milkman, and 
butter-man drive in each morning from Elem- 
ington. The road was flooded this morning 
and they could not reach us. The supplies 
which the steward keeps on hand, are in the 
basement, which was flooded last night. You 
may be seated.” 

There was no complaint at the bit of bacon 
and stale bread with which each plate had been 
served. There were excitement and hilarious 
good-humor, as though the flood had come for 
their especial benefit to give them an experience 
new and unusual. A bit of bacon and stale 
bread! One could get along very well for a 
few hours on that. But it seemed destined that 
the students were not to have even so little. 


286 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


Marshall came in and hurried to Doctor 
Weldon. She appeared cool and collected; but 
one could never tell from her manner whether 
she were anxious or not. The few seniors who 
remembered when the building had been afire, 
remembered Doctor Weldon had acted just so. 
Waiting until Marshall left the dining-hall, she 
rang the hell. The buzz of voices ceased. 

“Take your plates and go up to the parlor 
on the second floor. You may he dismissed in 
order. Miss Burkham’s table first.” 

Miss Burkham arose and led the way. She 
was quite as collected as Doctor Weldon, al- 
though, she, too, had seen the water marks 
which were appearing on the floor from the 
water in the basement below. 

“It is like a picnic. Think of eating bacon 
and stale bread in a parlor, done up in pale- 
green and silver. I know it will taste better.” 
It was Erma who was talking. Her voice rang 
over all like a silver bell, as with merry laugh 
and light spirits she lead the way to the floor 
above. 

The door leading from the main hall on to 
the porch was closed, hut a little stream had 


HESTER’S COHHTEEPAET 287 


forced itself in and was trickling over the floor. 
The men-servants were rolling up the rug, pre- 
paratory to carrying it to the floor above and 
the women-servants were pinning up window 
draperies and hangings to save them from pos- 
sible contact with the water. 

Doctor Weldon, calm and serene, as though 
a flood were an everyday occurrence and not 
at all alarming, went about the building in- 
structing the servants and teachers in regard 
to saving what they could of the property on 
the ground floor. 

Hester, Helen, Erma, and their friends 
stood on the landing of the stairway and 
watched the men work. The girls had for- 
gotten that they were hungry. Their plates 
were poised in the air and the bits of bacon and 
stale bread were untouched. 

Eenee came to the head of the stairway and 
leaning over the balustrade, looked down on 
the outstretched plates. “Haven’t you girls 
touched a bite!” she asked. “I am glad I 
found you. I wish you’d lend me your piece 
of bacon.” 

The girls, thus addressed, saw nothing hu- 


288 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


morous in tlie request. Erma was about to 
hand over ber portion when a laugh from the 
hall above caused her to pause. Emma, Edna, 
and Louise were laughing and ridiculing Eenee, 
who turned about and went off in bad humor, 
explaining as she did so that she wanted a 
piece for Marne Cross who had been complain- 
ing that she had not been treated as other girls 
when it came to the distribution of bacon. 

The men tossed the rugs upon the first land- 
ing of the stairway and went to the assistance 
of Marshall, who came in with tables and chairs 
from the kitchen. By much straining and lift- 
ing, the pianos were raised upon these. 

“That is all we can do,” said the night- 
watchman. “We cannot possibly take them to 
the second fioor. They are three feet higher 
now. The water can’t possibly rise that much 
more.” 

Doctor Weldon had taken refuge on the steps 
for the hall was flooded. The girls moved up 
to the second floor. 

“Let us go to the Philo Hall on the third 
floor,” cried Erma. “We can see over town 
from there.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 289 


“I do not wish, to see,” said several. 

“I do,” said Hester and Helen together. 
The three made their way to the hall whose 
windows opened to the north and east. The 
current from the river was sweeping about the 
corner of the building with a tremendous force. 
Logs and square timbers, uprooted trees and 
driftwood were being borne down in great 
quantities. 

On the side of the driveway, where the cur- 
rent was strongest, stood an iron lamp-post 
deeply imbedded in a foundation of stone. It 
had been placed there in the early history of 
the school, when electricity and gas were un- 
known. It had never been removed for the 
trustees were graduates of the school and re- 
fused to remove the landmarks of their school- 
days. So there it stood above the muddy, 
dirty water. 

The girls at the open window above could 
look down upon it. 

“See that great timber coming !” cried Helen. 

“It is right in the current and making 
straight for the building. If it should strike 
the corner!” 


290 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


The building was old and not able to stand 
the force of a heavy timber, propelled by such 
a tremendous force. The girls at the window 
knew what that meant. They held their breath. 
The timber rushed on, but it turned broadside 
iu the current and came up against the iron 
post. There it remained as nicely as though 
weighed and measured and fixed in place. 
Back of it came logs and drift which piled upon 
the timber and lamp-post until a bulwark was 
formed which turned the current away from 
the corner and the danger with it. 

“It’s luck. Did you ever see such luck?” 
cried Erma. “If that lamp-post had not been 
there, the whole corner of the building would 
have been broken in. It was luck — pure luck. ’ ’ 

“It was Providence,” said Helen simply. 
“I think it was meant that the lamp-post 
should be just where it is.” 

There were few words said. The scene was 
so awful that the desire to talk was taken away. 
From the parlors below, the excitement and 
laughter died. A quiet fell over the building. 
There was nothing to do but to watch and wait 
— ^for what or how long, no one could tell. 



They held their breath.— P aigre 290 . 



HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 291 


The sun shone out on the water. Below, lay 
the city. The portion which stood low was 
flooded to the second floor. Hester thought of 
Aunt Dehby as her eyes rested on the distant 
town. 

“There is no fear there,” said Helen fol- 
lowing the glance of her roommate’s eyes. 
“Fairview Street is the highest in town. You 
remember there is a terrace with steps where 
it joins Market. The tops of the buildings on 
Fourth Street will he covered before it comes 
to the doors of Fairview.” 

Hester knew that this was true. No im- 
mediate danger threatened the little cottage. 
The seminary with its old walls and the cur- 
rent from both river and creek heating upon it 
was where fear lay. 

“Look!” cried Helen, pointing her finger to 
midstream. There bobbing along like a cork on 
the current was a stable one side of which had 
been torn away. The mow was filled with hay, 
and in the stalls beneath was a horse feeding 
from the manger. It bobbed along serenely, as 
though midriver in a high flood, were the 
legitimate place for a stable. Then it struck 


292 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


the sides of the bridge. There was the sound 
of crushing and the barn was sucked down 
under the bridge and disappeared from sight. 

The morning passed and the girls sat in the 
window seats, fascinated by the sea before 
them. 

The water continued rising until twelve 
o’clock. It filled the lower halls and crept al- 
most to the second floor. The water-pipes 
burst and a famine of drink as well as food 
came. Fortunately, the experiences of the day 
had taken away the appetite. 

“I have been watching that old tree,” said 
Hester. “When the clock struck twelve, the 
water had just reached the notch at the 
branches. It is one o’clock now and it has not 
gone higher.” 

The waters were at a standstill. The worst 
was over. At three o’clock, Hester cried out 
with delight. “It is falling — falling! See the 
trunk of the tree shows above the water.” 

It was slowly receding. The danger-mark 
had passed, although the signs of havoc it had 
caused, were yet passing on the breast of the 
river. A part of a kitchen went sailing by. 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 293 


The watchers saw the upper window of a half- 
submerged house. There was a bed, a cradle, 
and a sewing-machine open and ready for use. 
There were pathos and tragedy sufficient for a 
lifetime. There was a touch of humor too, for 
on a long plank, at either end, sat a rat and a 
great black cat. They watched each other in- 
stinctively, and were unconscious of the danger 
which threatened them both. 

Five o’clock came, and the girls had not 
moved from their positions. During the day, 
but a few sentences had passed between them. 

At last hunger came to them. But there was 
no use going in search of food; for the larder 
was bare. There was not even a cup of water 
for them. 

For more than an hour Helen had not moved. 
Fear of the water had passed. A finer feel- 
ing than dread inspired her now. Someone 
from below called Erma, and she left the Philo 
Hall. She neither laughed nor danced. Even 
her effervescent spirits had been under the 
spell of the waters. 

Her departure aroused Helen from her 
reverie. Arising, she came to where Hester 


294 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 

sat. Her voice was low. To the old tenderness 
was added a new sweetness and strength, 
“Little roommate,” she said, “listen to me 
for a few minutes. Weeks ago, I believed you 
guilty of an act I could not countenance. I 
treasured resentment against you, though even 
while I was doing it, I loved you. I did wrong 
in not going directly to you and making known 
my complaint. May I tell it to you now, or 
shall we let it be as though it never happened, 
and let all our ugly feeling and bitterness go 
down with the flood?” 

“Let it go with the flood, Helen. I do not 
know how I erred, but I do know that I missed 
your friendship. Let us forget it from this 
minute.” 

“And let me give what I denied long ago,” 
said Helen, as she stooped to press her lips to 
Hester’s forehead. 


CHAPTEE XVI 


L ittle by nttle, the water receded. So 
slowly did it fall that the eye could not 
mark it. Over the mud-colored waters, the sun 
shone brightly and made of the spray a million 
sparkling diamonds. 

By evening, the students began to experience 
the pangs of hunger and thirst. There was 
nothing to satisfy them, for although there was 
water, water, everywhere, there was not a drop 
to drink. At twilight, the lower floors were 
above the flood, although at intervals, a sudden 
splash from without sent little streams back 
through the door. 

The pupils were yet under the spell of the 
flood. Unusual quiet reigned in the dormi- 
tories, when suddenly a cry of delight came 
from Erma. Her voice echoed from one end 
of the hall to the other, and reached even to 
Miss Burkham’s ears; but that lady did not 
appear to reprimand her. The preceptress 
295 


296 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


realized that the girls had been under a nerv- 
ous strain all day and she did not have it in 
mind to restrain them, even though they ex- 
ceeded the bounds laid down by Seminary law. 

“What has happened to Erma?” exclaimed 
Hester, starting up when the cry reached her 
ears. 

“Don’t be alarmed. It is nothing serious. I 
can tell from her voice. That shriek is Erma’s 
cry of delight.” 

In an instant, Erma herself tripped down the 
hall to explain and to share. Knocking hastily, 
she did not wait to be admitted, but flung open 
the door. 

“What do you think I found?” she cried. 
“A half-dozen lemons. I forgot that I had 
them. I bought them last week. Here, we’re 
dividing.” 

She thrust one out at them. It had already 
been opened and part of its contents extracted. 

“There wasn’t enough for one a piece. Just 
take a good long suck from it.” 

The girls did. There was nothing humorous 
in this passing a lemon about among many. 
Not a drop of liquid had passed their lips since 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 297 


the night before. The few drops of juice which 
they were able to extract, were refreshing. 

“Doesn’t it taste good?” cried Erma. “I 
never knew before how perfectly delicious a 
cup of cold water is. Wait until I have the op- 
portunity. I mean to drink a gallon without 
stopping. I must go on. The girls in Sixty 
haven’t had any yet.” 

She was gone before Hester and Helen had 
expressed their thanks. Before she reached 
Sixty, the door opened and Renee came out. 
“I was looking for you, Erma. Someone said 
you had found some lemons. Can’t you lend 
me one?” 

“What’s left of one. Take it and drain it 
dry.” It was almost that now, but Renee re- 
ceived it thankfully. 

“I thought I could not stand it another 
minute. How long will it be before we get any- 
thing to eat or drink?” 

“In a week or so,” cried Erma as she passed 
on. 

Sunday morning broke clear and bright. 
There were no rising or breakfast bells, for 
there was nothing to serve the hungry people. 


298 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Doctor Weldon and Miss Burkham had con- 
ferred together and decided that as long as 
the girls were sleeping, they would be neither 
hungry nor thirsty, so they allowed them to 
sleep until they awakened of themselves. 

The perversity of human nature showed 
itself in every girl’s being awake unusually 
early. At the usual breakfast hour, the upper 
halls were filled. It was the Sabbath, but on 
the lower floor the servants were at hard work. 
The women were wearing top-boots and short 
skirts, which reached just below the knees. 
They were dragging out the mud with hoes. 
In the middle of the floors, the sand and mud 
were fully a foot deep while in corners, which 
had been free from the force of the current, 
the deposit was three times that depth. 

In the middle of the main floor, a saw-log 
lay. A great hole in the plaster showed where 
it had spent its force, and the shattered glass 
of the front door was evidence of its place of 
entrance. The curtains of real lace which had 
added to the beauty of the reception hall, were 
nothing but dirty rags, discolored, torn, and 
hung with bits of drift. 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 299 


The sun beat down upon the water-soaked 
places, and the steam which arose, was foul- 
smelling. The men who were endeavoring to 
do the heavier portion of clearing, were knee- 
deep in the drift. The flood had receded, hut 
the basement was yet full of water. The con- 
ditions were bad and would remain so for some 
time, regardless of the fact that everyone was 
doing his utmost to better them. 

There was nothing to he hoped from the city, 
for it had its own burden. The store-houses 
had been flooded and the food supply cut off. 

Miss Burkham went to Doctor Weldon. 
“What do you think of my taking the girls 
from the building?” she asked. “The hygienic 
conditions here are dreadful. Outside we can 
find the sunshine, at least. I can take them 
through the city streets — ^wherever the streets 
are open. I think we can keep them better 
satisfied if we keep their attention on something 
else than themselves.” 

“Perhaps, it would be better. I have been 
concerned about them. They have been most 
thoughtful and considerate so far. You may 
take the Eraulein with you — and the school 


300 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


purse, too, Miss Burkham. You may be able 
to buy something for them.” 

“While you are gone, I’ll try to get into 
communication with our people at Plemington. 
The telephone and telegraphs are useless. 
Marshall and Herman might be able to walk 
out and carry something back. It will be hours 
before a delivery wagon can get through to 
bring us anything.” 

Following Miss Burkham’s instructions, the 
girls dressed in their shortest and shabbiest 
skirts and put on heavy shoes. It was a 
dismal, hungry-looking party which set forth. 

For a square down Main Street, the way was 
clear. They were often forced to leave the 
sidewalk and make a detour to escape the piles 
of drift which lay in heaps. The mud was over 
the tops of the rubber shoes, and the greater 
number had discarded over-shoes before they 
had gone far. At the corner of Main and 
Clinton Avenue, they stopped. Their way was 
cut off by a great pile of logs, timbers, and 
uprooted trees which reached above the second 
story of the houses. Here and there, caught 
between the branches of the trees or the con- 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 301 


junction of timbers, were bits of household 
articles, parts of chairs, window frames or 
broken beds and soggy mattresses. 

“We can climb over,” suggested Hester. 
“That will not be much of a climb.” 

Miss Burkham had been hesitating. She 
feared to go on and yet to go back meant dis- 
satisfied, hungry girls shut up in a wet, foul- 
smelling building. 

“We’ll climb,” she said. “But be careful 
to move slowly, and not bring this down upon 
you.” 

The feat was not a difficult one. They suc- 
ceeded in crossing and entered the business 
street. There was not a whole plate-glass win- 
dow in this section. They had been shattered 
into bits so small that no trace of them could 
be found. 

The girls entered what had been the largest 
and finest grocery store of the city. The mud 
was several feet deep ; the show-cases had been 
battered to pieces ; canned goods were piled in 
heaps in the corners and covered with refuse. 
But the combination most surprising, was 
where a large cheese had tumbled down upon 


302 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


a dead cow which, had been washed in from 
some dairy farm far up the river. 

Men were already clearing the streets, and 
shoveling the refuse from the stores. 

From the business thoroughfare, Miss Burk- 
ham led her charges to the residence street. 
Here conditions were the same. The elegant 
houses bore the marks of the flood. Trees were 
uprooted. Lawns which but a few days be- 
fore were things of beauty, were now but heaps 
of refuse, or hollows filled with water. 

Doors and windows stood open wide. Deli- 
cate, cultivated women had arrayed themselves 
in overalls and were scraping the mud from 
their homes. 

As they made their way eastward, Eobert 
Vail hurried down a side-street to meet them. 

“I started for school the instant I could,” 
he explained to Miss Burkham. “I did not 
know how bad conditions were, but I expected 
they could not be good. 

“I have a tally-ho and horses, but we could 
not get beyond Fairview Street. South Street 
is a mere chasm. The horses could not have 
crossed there. I did reach Miss Alden and 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 303 


Miss Ricliards. My man took them back home 
while I came in.” 

Hester grasped his arm. “Auntie — is 
Auntie all right?” 

“Pine as silk. She was concerned about you 
until we satisfied her that seminary girls could 
not be gotten rid of so easily. It takes more 
than a flood — ” He spoke lightly to the girls 
and then turned to Miss Burkham. “Our 
housekeeper said I should fill up the tally-ho 
and bring the girls there. The buildings at 
school will not be fit to live in for some days. 
We’ll take care of eighteen or twenty until you 
arrange matters.” 

A feeling of relief came to the preceptress. 
“You have taken a great responsibility from 
Doctor Weldon and me,” she said. “We shall 
never be able to thank you. As to the girls, 
Hester and Helen, of course must go ; also the 
Eraulein, for I must not allow the girls to go 
alone.” 

She turned to the group about her, and 
selected the number which would fill the 
tally-ho. 

“You girls will go with the Eraulein and 


304 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Mr. Vail, and remain until we send you word 
to return. Berenice, Violet, Edith and I will 
return to school.” 

“I declare, this is too bad,” cried Robert. 
“I cannot allow you to walk back, and without 
anything to eat.” 

“You cannot help it. The circumstances 
are unusual. The elements have our fortunes 
in hand,” she replied. 

“The instant I get the young ladies home, 
my man and I will come back with all the good 
things we can carry. Tell Doctor Weldon that 
we shall have a dinner — perhaps a late one — 
for her.” 

“She has sent messengers to Flemington. 
They will bring us something for one meal at 
least. Come, girls.” She led her little flock 
toward home. There was no hope of finding 
a bite to eat anywhere in the city. Men and 
women had worked all night and were yet work- 
ing without a particle of food or drop to drink. 
The preceptress was worn and weak. Her re- 
sponsibility for the last two days had been 
great; hut she did not dare give up. She 
trudged bravely toward school, encouraging the 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 305 


girls and drawing their attention to any phase 
of the situation which was not burdened with 
pathos. 

Robert Vail led his party down the residence 
street and then turned down an alley. “These 
narrow passages have less drift,” he explained. 
“My man and I discovered this this morning.” 

By devious ways, he brought them out on 
High Street which stood above the ravages of 
the flood. Here a tally-ho with four horses 
stood waiting. 

Robert assisted the Fraulein and girls to 
their places and bade the coachman drive on. 
Hester and Helen sat side by side. 

“Now, I am really to meet your Aunt Har- 
riet,” said Hester. “It is very strange. 
Think of my rooming with you for ten months 
and never meeting her.” 

“Never met mother?” exclaimed Robert 
Vail. “Be prepared to meet the finest mother 
in the world.” 

“There may be some exception,” said Helen, 
“at least Hester may think so. She may be 
vain enough to think that she had the finest 
mother in the world.” 


306 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


“Oh, no,” began Hester hastily and then she 
paused. She was not dull. She had been 
keen enough to know that there was something 
not just right about a mother and child travel- 
ing alone through a strange country and no 
one ever searching for them. But she could not 
allow any one else to know her thoughts. Her 
face flushed as she continued, “I have never 
known a mother. Aunt Hebby is all I ever 
had. I am sure that no one can be finer than 
she.” 

“We will make an exception in favor of Miss 
Alden,” continued Robert. “With the excep- 
tion of Miss Hebby Alden, you will find my 
mother the finest woman in the world. You’ll 
fall in love with her the instant that you meet 
her.” 

“I know. I have caught several glimpses 
of her but I never met her. But, perhaps she 
will not care for me. I should not be pleased 
if I should like your mother very much and 
she would not like me at all.” 

Vain little Hester Alden. She knew what 
speech Robert Vail would make. She had 
heard him express himself on the subject twice 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 307 


before. Because bis words had pleased her, 
she called them forth again. 

“There’ll be no danger of her not liking you. 
I’ll vouch for that. Mother and I always like 
the same people and things. She has the best 
taste in the world.” 

Helen laughed teasingly. “You like to im- 
press people with the fact that you are fond of 
your mother ; but have you ever noticed, Cousin 
Robert, that there is always one compliment for 
her, and two for you? 

“Robert Vail and his mother like the same 
things. That is the first premise. The second 
is, his mother has excellent taste ; conclusion — 
Robert Vail has excellent taste. I have not 
studied logic for nothing. Cousin Robert.” 

Robert shrugged his shoulders. “That is a 
girl’s idea of reason,” he said., “They al- 
ways go about in a circle, like a lost duck and 
they never lose the personal element in any- 
thing.” 

“Your remarks are not original,” said Helen. 
“I have heard Doctor Baker say that same 
thing.” 

“I have heard you mention Doctor Baker 


308 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


before. Is he your physician at home?” asked 
Hester. She had forgotten Helen’s Easter let- 
ter. 

“He’s our pastor and perfectly lovely, Hes- 
ter. He has been with us a long, long time. 
I told you once about him, but you were vexed 
with me then and my words fell on deaf ears. 
Sometime you must come and spend a month 
with me in my home and you shall meet Doc- 
tor Baker.” 

“I never would go and leave Aunt Debby for 
an entire month. It was bad enough to go to 
school and not be with her,” was Hester’s re- 
ply* 

“But Aunt Debby can come along. My 
father would like her, and she and Aunt Har- 
riet would be friends from the moment they 
met. Maybe we can arrange it for this sum- 
mer. Sometimes Doctor Baker comes to visit 
us, too. He gets very lonely. I should think 
any one living alone would be lonely.” 

“Isn’t he married?” asked Hester. “I 
thought ministers were always married. Why 
doesn’t he get married?” 

“You think a marriage certificate goes with 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 309 


the manse,” said Robert. “His case is a 
paradox. He is always marrying, and yet 
never is married. Quite a riddle isn’t it?” 

Helen’s face lighted up. She was like Hes- 
ter in that both delighted to hear romantic 
stories. 

“He had a love atfair, a long time ago,” she 
said softly as though the subject were one too 
sacred for full tones to play upon. “But he 
went to college, and when he came hack his 
sweetheart did not care for him. But he has 
never forgotten her.” 

Hester gave a sigh of contentment. She 
would remember and tell her Aunt Dehby about 
this. While her Aunt Debby had chided her 
about repeating these little romantic tales 
which came to her ears, Hester had a feeling 
that the elder Miss Alden was not wholly un- 
sympathetic. 

Josephine, who was sitting in the front of the 
tally-ho, caught the last of Helen’s speech. 
She sighed, and leaning forward that all might 
catch her words, said: “How lovely! Such 
persons appeal to me. There is nothing in the 
world which is so beautiful to me as faithful- 


310 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


ness. How perfectly lovely! I always — ” 

“Hester, lend me a pin, please. I see you 
have one in the front of your coat and I need 
one to fasten the ends of my tie, ’ ’ it was Renee 
who broke in upon Josephine’s flow of senti- 
ment. 

“We shall soon be there now,” said Robert. 
“The house stands back of those trees.” He 
pointed to a small elevation which was about 
a mile distant. The girls exclaimed with de- 
light except Marne Cross who looked down upon 
her short skirt and mud-stained shoes with a 
mortified expression. 

“Really, Mr. Vail, I simply cannot enter 
your home, looking like this. Your mother 
would refuse to receive me.” 

“I do not understand why,” he replied. 

“Marne, do please forget about it,” laughed 
Erma. “My shoes are muddy; my skirt is 
shabby; I am hungry — so hungry that I’ll 
fairly snatch at anything to eat. I look like 
a fright, I know I do. But what’s the use of 
thinking about it. It can’t be helped. So why 
not pretend that we do not notice it?” 

“We must make up for our looks by being 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


311 


so nice that Mrs. Vail will not notice that we 
are not immaculate.” It was Mellie who of- 
fered this suggestion. 

‘ ‘ That is all very well for you girls to speak 
so,” said Marne. “But you do not look as 1 
do. You girls look nice, considering what you 
have gone through; but me — always look the 
worst. I never look like other girls.” 

“Then give up trying, Marne. You never 
will look like other girls, you know. So make 
the best of matters which cannot he helped, 
and be cheerful and gay.” Erma’s words 
were supposed to be ironical; but her happy 
little laugh and dainty little touch upon Marne’s 
hand, robbed them of their sting. 

“Here we are!” exclaimed Eobert Vail, as 
the horses turned from the main road into a 
private drive. Hester opened her eyes in as- 
tonishment. She had seen the beautiful homes 
near Lockport, but this surpassed any. The 
house was in the midst of a great park; there 
were lawn, forest, and flowers. The house was 
large, but not imposing. It had rather the look 
of a home than of a mansion. Never before 
had Hester seen such beauty of surroundings. 


312 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Nature and cultivation had worked together to 
make the best of this. 

As the girls stepped from the tally-ho, Hes- 
ter grasped Helen by the arm, “I am afraid — 
afraid,” she whispered. 

“To meet Aunt Harriet? Why, little room- 
mate, she is not a bit formidable. You will 
love her.” 

“I think it is not just that — ” she began 
again. She could not finish. Aunt Debby and 
Miss Richards had come to meet them. Back 
of these two, stood a large, wiry woman in a 
dark dress and an extensive white apron. 

“My little girl,” cried Debby, clasping Hes- 
ter in her arms. “I have been very anxious 
about you.” 

“I was safe. Aunt Debby. Perfectly safe, 
but so hungry.” 

Robert Vail escorted his guests to the door. 

“This is Mrs. Perkins, young ladies,” he 
said, indicating to the big woman. “She will 
see that you have something to eat at once. ’ ’ 

“I have been waiting dinner. If the ladies 
wish to come at once — ” She led the way. 
The guests were weak from hunger. The 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 313 


odor of the food aroused their appetites afresh. 

“Did you ever think bread and butter was 
so gloriously fine!” said Emma after her first 
mouthful. “Do you realize that we have had 
nothing since Friday evening.” 

“I do; but I do not intend talking about it — 
now,” said Hester. “I have greater things to 
do. ’ ’ 

Indeed, they all had that. They had kept 
up bravely under strenuous conditions. There 
had been no word of complaint. Erma espe- 
cially, had been cheerful and gay as long as 
those two qualities were needed to sustain her- 
self and her friends. Now, she was the first 
to give way. After a few morsels had been 
eaten, she realized that she was tired — so tired 
that she believed that ever being rested again 
would be an impossibility. She made an effort 
to keep up. She tried to laugh, but ended with 
a nervous giggle. Then to the amazement of 
all, she began to cry and sob. 

“I am so tired. I am too tired to live. I 
never could go through with this again.” 

“And you will not need to — ^never again,” 
said Miss Debby, going to the girl’s aid. 


314 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


“Let her cry. It will do her good,” she 
continued as the others were about to leave 
their dinner. “Let her cry, it will do her 
good.” 

At this Eenee began to giggle. Marne looked 
at her and straightway did as Eenee. Mellie 
and Josephine made a brave effort to control 
themselves, but after a few minutes they were 
following Erma’s example and were sobbing as 
though their hearts would break. 

Miss Eichards and Miss Dehby took matters 
into their hands. There was no help to be ex- 
pected from the Fraulein, for she was as 
wearied as the girls. 

The housekeeper made ready the rooms and 
the girls were forced to go to bed. 

“Each young lady ate a little something, I 
observed,” said Mrs. Perkins. “Let them rest 
a while, then I shall take some refreshments 
to them.” 

“It was so beautiful what they behaved yet 
to this time,” cried the Fraulein. “Never no 
word, no fuss, all smiles, all funs, no cross or 
nothing until now.” She was much disturbed 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 315 


lest the women would discredit her for the 
girls’ behavior. 

“We understand,” said Debhy Alden. “It 
is not your fault, Fraulein. You are going to 
rest now, too. We intend treating you like a 
little girl ; send you to bed and send your bread 
and jelly to you.” 

“Ach,” the little German teacher tried to 
look self-reliant and sufficient to take care of 
herself. But there was something in Debhy 
Alden ’s manner which touched her. The 
Fraulein was a stranger in a strange land. 
Many and many were the times when she 
longed for the tenderness of those who were 
bound to her by the ties of love and blood. 
She was but a little homesick girl, herself and 
wished to be mothered like other girls. But 
she was brave enough with all her longing. 
She shrugged her shoulders; but Debby laid 
her hand affectionately on the girl’s shoulder. 
That settled it. In an instant, the German 
teacher rested her head against Dehby; her 
eyes filled; she touched Debby ’s cheeks ten- 
derly; “I vill go. The Fraulein is so kind. The 


316 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


Fraulein has a heart in her breast.” Without 
a word of demur, the little German teacher 
followed the girls and rested while the house- 
keeper and Debby Alden waited upon them with 
the most kindly attention. 

Robert Vail and his man had returned at 
once to the city taking with them a supply of 
necessities. The housekeeper came to Miss 
Debby with the explanation and apology. 
Thought of others had caused Robert to neglect 
his duty as host. Here Mrs. Perkins looked 
mournful and as though she might say much if 
she chose, and added that Mrs. Vail had left 
early that morning, having driven over the 
hills to an adjoining town where railroad com- 
munications had not been cut off. She had re- 
ceived news which had caused her some anxiety 
and she had set forth at once. 

The housekeeper was in the mood to speak 
freely; but Debby Alden was not one who dis- 
cussed with the maid the affairs of the mistress. 
She accepted the explanation and went her 
way. So many incidents of life turn as a straw 
in the wind. This was a time and place pro- 
pitious for much clearing-up of uncertain 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


317 


matters ; but Debby Alden bad not been in the 
mood to listen; and the mistress of the house 
was traveling over the country after a will-of- 
the-wisp which had led her many a long, un- 
fruitful journey. 

Robert Vail, greatly fatigued with his day’s 
work, came back to Valehurst just at dusk. By 
this time, the nervous tension had been greatly 
relieved. The girls had had a nap and a sub- 
stantial evening meal, and were prepared to 
look at the experiences of the last few days in 
a more cheerful light. 

Robert brought with him the good news that 
the hucksters from Flemington had driven in 
over the hill and had brought food with them 
to the seminary. The teachers and pupils were 
preparing to return with them to the farm- 
houses which stood high enough to be out of 
the way of the river and creek. 

Marshall and Belva with a set of workmen 
were remaining at school to put the place in 
order ; to build fires that the building might be 
dried rapidly and to protect the grounds and 
buildings from vandalism. Doctor Weldon had 
sent word that the young ladies who were with 


318 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


the Fraulein at Valehurst were to remain there 
until she recalled them. 

Miss Debhy and Miss Richards, with the little 
group of girls, had gathered about Robert on 
the lawn, anxious and eager to hear about their 
friends. When the message had been received 
and the good news told, the crowd separated 
into little groups. Helen and Hester, in com- 
pany with Robert, moved toward the house. 

“I had no opportunity of asking you about 
Aunt Harriet,” said Helen, “and I do not like 
to put such questions to Mrs. Perkins. You 
said that Auntie would be here, Robert.” She 
looked up at him and waited as though expect- 
ing an explanation. 

“So I thought. We made ready before day- 
light this morning to go for you girls. Mother 
came down to see us off. In fact it was she 
who prepared the lunches to give to any one in 
distress. But Perkins tells me that quite early 
someone called her up on the ’phone. She 
talked a long time. Then she called Ryder 
and told him to get out the grays and the light 
carriage. Then she went off. She didn’t even 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPART 319 


leave word where she went. I called up father ’s 
office. He knew nothing about it. ” 

“And don’t you know?” There was anxiety 
in Helen’s voice. Her eyes had a pained, dis- 
tressed look. 

“She telephoned to Perkins that she had 
gone to Minnequa, a little factory town where 
an old colored woman had the care of a young 
white girl. The message came from those 
people who had found such a ‘sure thing,’ be- 
fore and then failed to make good when the 
time came. ’ ’ 

“You don’t mean that horrid man and 
his son? What was their name — Stroat — 
Strout?” 

“Stout, if I remember right. Before it was 
a mere scheme to extort money, and I do not 
doubt that it will he the same now. Poor 
mother, she will be worn out with the journey 
and have nothing hut disappointment for it all. 
I mean to talk with her on the wires to-night. 
If she does not intend coming home at once, 
I shall go to Minnequa and he with her. I may 
start early and shall not see you in the morn- 


320 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


ing. Will you explain to Miss Debby and the 
girls ? I am not running away, but I must not 
let my mother stay there alone.” 

“Yes, you must go. Do not give a thought 
about us. We shall be very well taken care 
of here. Poor Aunt Harriet! How I wish I 
might fill that empty place in her heart!” 

Hester had been walking a few steps in ad- 
vance; but had heard the conversation. Why 
should Helen always speak of her aunt as 
though she were to be pitied? Mrs. Vail had 
everything that a woman could desire — a 
beautiful home with trained service, a husband 
and son who considered no one but her. It was 
strange. Hester could not understand why 
Helen should always speak of Mrs. Vail as 
“poor Aunt Harriet.” 


CHAPTEE XVII 


H OW fine it would be if one could foresee 
the result of every action! Hester Al- 
den’s slight prevarication to Eobert Vail, when 
she told him that her father had been Miss 
Debby’s brother, carried with it a long 
series of misunderstandings. Had Eobert Vail 
known the facts — ^but he did not. 

Hester, bearing within her heart the con- 
sciousness of her own fault, spent not a few 
unhappy moments with herself. To it, she at- 
tributed the former entanglement, between her- 
self and Helen. She reached this conclusion 
because she knew of nothing else on account of 
which Helen might have misjudged her. 
Several times, she decided to speak of the 
matter to Helen and confess that she had mis- 
represented matters when she had declared that 
she belonged to the Alden family; but each 
time, her courage failed her, and her pride pre- 
vented. It is not an easy matter for one to 
321 


322 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


confess that she has, in her statements, deviated 
from the truth. 

The morning following the coming of the 
girls to Valehurst, Robert Vail left home early 
and by a hard drive over the mountains at 
length reached the junction where railroad 
communication had not been cut off. 

Mrs. Perkins expected him to return with 
his mother the following day; hut they were 
detained by business. So Valehurst was left 
without a host or hostess. Mrs. Perkins ex- 
erted herself to make the guests comfortable 
and the servants, with which the home was well 
provided, vied with each other in their attend- 
ance upon the young ladies. The girls were 
thoroughly enjoying their experience, Hester, 
perhaps most of all, for such a household was 
new to her. She liked to play lady of the 
manor. 

“Don’t you wish you and I could live this 
way?” she said to Debhy Alden, during the 
second day of the enforced visit. Debhy Alden 
looked at the questioner and then asked, “Are 
you not satisfied, Hester, with your own little 
home?” 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


323 


“Yes, I am!” cried the girl impulsively. “A 
little house with Aunt Dehby is better than a 
mansion without her. I am really satisfied. 
Yet it does seem nice to be here. I feel quite 
at home.” 

“I presume a lady feels at home in any cul- 
tivated environment,” was the rejoinder. 
Dehby paused a moment. She was not one to 
repeat the tales which came to her ears; but 
when, as in this instance, her sympathies were 
touched and she felt that her story might bear 
with it a moral, it might be really worth her 
while to repeat it to Hester. 

“Valehurst is very beautiful, Hester. We 
recognize that; but it cannot bring happiness 
to those who dwell in it. Mrs. Vail has a great 
sorrow. What it is, I do not know. I did not 
care to inquire. Eobert told me that his 
mother, years ago, had a bereavement from 
which she has never recovered, and to which 
she has never become reconciled. The servants 
speak as though she were a woman saddened 
by some dreadful experience.” 

“But Helen says she is very cheerful and 
can never do enough to make others happy.” 


324 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


“Outwardly, perhaps. From what I have 
learned, she is one who has strength of char- 
acter enough to keep her sorrows to herself and 
not burden others. Of course, she would try 
to make Helen and every one else happy, even 
though she were most miserable herself. I 
would not have spoken of the matter, had I 
not thought you were estimating one’s happi- 
ness by the amount of material wealth one pos- 
sessed. 

“Poor Mrs. Vail! I am a happier woman 
than she. I have just my little home and my 
girl, but I am very content.” 

“So am I, Aunt Debby.” She pressed 
Debby Alden’s arm closer within her hand. 
Then she added, “Wasn’t it a good thing that 
I was left to you. Wouldn’t it have been dread- 
ful if I had been taken somewhere else and 
you would have been left alone. Just think 
how lonely we would have been.” 

“Yes, it would have been hard; but it didn’t 
happen that way. It was intended that you 
should be my girl.” 

“You mustn’t think that I was discontented 
because I wished that you and I lived in a 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 325 


mansion. I am not one bit discontented. I 
was just wishing.” 

“Learn to be contented. Folks are miser- 
able otherwise. The Aldens, taking them as 
a family, were not complainers or grumblers — 
except Ezra, and how he ever came by it, I 
do not know. He was never contented. He 
wouldn’t go to school, and he wouldn’t farm, 
and he wouldn’t be satisfied anywhere or with 
anything.” 

“Ezra? Who was he. Aunt Debby? I never 
heard you mention his name before. ’ ’ 

“He was my oldest brother. He would be 
a man of sixty if he were living now. I never 
mentioned him, because he is more of a memory 
than anything else. He was only sixteen when 
he ran off west. He wrote a few times. The 
letters were two or three years apart, and al- 
ways from different sections. At one time he 
was on a ranch, another time in the gold fields. 
He could not be contented long anywhere.” 

“Where is he now. Aunt Debby?” 

“Dead, Hester. Dead long ago. At least 
we think so. For years, no letters have come 
from him. When father died, we sent word 


326 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


everywhere, but he never replied. We said 
then that he was dead.” 

“If he had lived, I’d have had an uncle. 
I should like an uncle. From what I’ve read, 
they are very jolly.” 

“You can not always believe what you read,” 
was the sententious rejoinder. 

The guests remained at Valehurst three days, 
during which time neither Mrs. Vail nor Rob- 
ert appeared, although the latter sent many 
messages to the girls, through the medium of 
his cousin or the housekeeper. 

Thursday morning, word came from Doctor 
Weldon that the students must return, to school 
and make ready their belongings to go home. 
Commencement was not to be considered. 
The graduates would receive their diplomas, 
but there could be no festivities. 

The students had been taken care of in the 
country houses which stood on the hills back of 
Flemington. These were the only places for 
miles about which had not been flooded. As 
soon as communication with other places had 
been made. Doctor Weldon was kept busy send- 
ing and receiving telegrams. Each father and 


HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 327 

mother was distracted when news of the flood- 
ing of Lockport came. 

By Thursday evening, the students had re- 
turned. The drift and dirt had been removed 
from the Seminary building, and the campus 
had been freed from logs and driftwood. 
But some things could never be replaced. The 
old apple trees had been uprooted; the grassy 
slope which had lain close to the river front 
had been washed out to gravel bottom. The 
gray bricks of the building showed the water 
mark and at the comer a few misplaced ones 
told the story of how the old lamp post had 
saved the building. 

The once beautiful halls were water-stained; 
hard-wood floors were warped until they stood 
in little hollows and hills; and the polished 
wood of the doors and balustrades had lost 
all semblance of beauty. 

The girls rushed into one another’s arms. 
They could talk now of the flood for the danger 
had passed from them. The dormitories were 
a babel of voices. A score of girls talked at 
once and not one listened to another. 

Miss Burkham from the hall below heard the 


328 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


confusion and retired to her own apartments. 
She had no thought of interfering with the chat- 
ter. She explained her lack of discipline to 
Doctor Weldon later. “This will never hap- 
pen again in all their lives. As long as they 
were talking, they were forgetful that the op- 
portunity for the banquet, the play, and com- 
mencement had been taken from them. I 
thought it wise to put up with the noise, rather 
than have them feel depressed.” 

The girls were discussing the play and ban- 
quet even then. There were confessions on 
all sides. 

“We intended feasting on the senior ban- 
quet,” cried Erma. “We had bribed Belva. 
He was to lead the caterers up to our third 
floor. You seniors would have sat waiting in 
the Philo Hall below.” 

“No, indeed. You reckoned without con- 
sidering that the senior class were not all dul- 
lards. We had heard of your plans. Doctor 
Weldon gave us permission to hold the banquet 
at a hotel in the city. Miss Burkham and the 
Fraulein were to go with us. So while you 
girls would have been sitting in the attic wait- 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 329 


ing for the banquet, we would have been whirl- 
ing away in cabs to the city.” Helen had a 
smile of triumph as she told the story. If the 
seniors had been robbed of their opportunity to 
outwit the juniors, they at least would not miss 
the chance of boasting of it. 

Erma looked at her quizzingly. “Was that 
really true?” she asked. “Well, I have this 
much to say. If the seniors had outwitted us, 
we in turn outwitted the freshmen. They were 
gloating over the fact that they had a copy of 
our play.” 

“We did,” cried Hester. “And we had the 
parts almost learned.” 

“Yes, I was to be the queen,” said Emma. 
“I knew my part. I was to — .” 

“You the queen!” said Edna Bucher, with 
a touch of sarcasm in her voice. “I could not 
possibly conceive of you taking such a part.” 

“Well, you never did have much imagina- 
tion. You should cultivate it,” was Emma’s 
quick rejoinder. 

“Please do not quarrel,” said Josephine as 
she raised her soulful eyes and let them rest 
upon each girl in turn. “This may be our last 


330 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


time together. It would be so sweet to carry 
with us pleasant memories. Let us have 
sweet — . ’ ’ 

“Not too much, though,” said Emma. 
“You always were a great girl for caramels 
and fudge, Jo; but you must remember some of 
the rest of us liked olives and pickles.” 

“Emma’s speech in plain English, means 
that she prefers some wit to too much senti- 
ment,” said Hester. 

“I most assuredly do,” was the rejoinder, 
as Emma sat down on top of the trunk which 
had been brought in ready for packing. 

The group of girls had gathered in Sixty- 
two. During the winter and spring terms, this 
room had been the general gathering place; 
for Hester and Helen were popular with the 
other students. 

“I wish I might finish about the play,” cried 
Erma. “Those miserable little freshmen 
thought they had our play. Yes, I know you 
took a copy from my study-table drawer. It 
was one I put in there for you to take. While 
you were busy learning that, we had another. 
So while you girls were gloating over the ‘East 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 33i 

Indian Queen,’ we went on in peace and prac- 
tised ‘A Roumanian Princess.’ ” 

“Really? Erma Thomas, do you mean it?” 
“Do I mean it? I surely do. Oh, wasn’t 
it fun to hear you practise and see you slip 
about with your mysterious airs ! ’ ’ 

The door opened and Renee came in. She 
was robed in a full-length kimona. 

“You girls sitting here doing nothing! I am 
packing. I do not intend letting it go until 
morning and then hurrying. My trunk is 
locked and I cannot find the keys. Will you 
lend me yours, Helen ? ’ ’ 

Helen arose to get them from a drawer. 
Emma sighed as she looked at Renee. 

“When I go to heaven,” she said, “and meet 
Renee there, I know what she will say to me 
the very first thing.” 

The girls looked their queries and Emma con- 
cluded, “ ‘Emma, please lend me your crown. 
I’ve mislaid mine.’ ” 

“And Emma will be finding fault with every- 
thing. She’ll feel dreadful because she is 
forced to he in heaven all the time,” said Sara 
slowly. This was a hit direct at the little 


332 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


DutcE doll, for all through the year she had 
been complaining at the restrictions of school, 
and could not understand why Doctor Weldon 
did not allow the girls to go down to the city 
when they pleased. 

During this conversation, Marne Cross had 
been sitting apart. Now Josephine turned to 
her, and assuming an attitude and expression 
of great solicitation and interest said, “Marne 
is the only one who feels what this evening 
means to us. Perhaps never again shall we 
talk together. No one knows what the sum- 
mer will bring. Marne is overcome by the 
thought — .” 

“I am not. I was not thinking of that at 
all,” Marne replied. “It came to me while 
the girls were talking of the banquet and play 
and commencement that I was almost glad that 
we were not having any of them.” 

“Marne Cross, what heresy! The flood has 
made her mad,” cried the girls. 

“I have reasons for thinking so. I simply 
could not have gone to one thing. What could 
I have worn if I had gone? I made up my 
mind when we had our last reception that 1 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 333 


would never go to another unless I had some- 
thing decent to wear. ’ ’ 

“When I meet Marne in heaven,” said Emma, 
trying to look serious, ‘ ‘ the very first thing she 
will say is, ‘My robe doesn’t hang as well as 
yours, and my harp isn’t so bright.’ ” 

“Are you not getting a little irreverent?” 
said Helen gently. “There are so many com- 
mon things to jest about. Is it not better to 
use them as the butt of our wit, instead of 
matters beyond our comprehension?” 

“Yes, I suppose so, Helen,” said Emma. 
“But, you know I never consider. I blurt out 
just what I wish to say.” 

The half-hour bell sounded and the girls went 
to their rooms to make ready to appear at 
the dining-table. The lower halls were yet 
damp although they had been open to the air 
and sun since the previous Sabbath. Doctor 
Weldon, not wishing to risk the health of the 
pupils, had converted a class-room on the sec- 
ond floor into a dining-hall. Here dinner was 
served informally; the students attending to 
their own wants, for the servants were kept 
busy carrying the trays from the floor below. 


334 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


At the bringing-in of the last course, Doctor 
Weldon arose to make the announcements. 
She asked the young ladies to attend to their 
packing at once. Belva and Marshall had al- 
ready brought down trunks and boxes from 
the store-room. Immediately after breakfast, 
the following morning, each young lady should 
call at the office when arrangements would be 
made for her going home. 

There was too much to be done after dinner 
to permit of any visiting. The girls went to 
their rooms and began to dismantle them. 
Hester and Helen had much to do, but they 
contrived to carry on a steady flow of talk 
while they worked. 

“Perhaps, we’ll never be together again,” 
said Hester, from the depths of the closet 
whither she had gone in search of shoes. “You 
will not be here next year. We may never 
meet again.” 

“I think we shall,” said Helen. “The world 
is not a very large place. You are to visit 
me, you know. I shall ask your Aunt Debby 
when I see her.” 

“And you’ll come to visit me. Couldn’t you 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 335 


come this summer? You’d like Jane Orr and 
Ralph. He is the nicest boy I ever knew, ex- 
cept Robert Vail.” 

“Rob is nice. Yes, I think I can come. We 
could have a fine time.” 

Hester grew eloquent about the walks, pic- 
nics and drives they could have. Helen was 
accustomed to life in a mansion with a retinue 
of servants. Hester knew this. She knew also 
that at her home, Aunt Debhy and she would 
perform all the household work and that Aunt 
Debhy would set out her own flowers and plant 
a garden of radishes and lettuce with their 
kindred small garden truck. Helen would have 
no servants to wait upon her. Hester gave no 
thought to the difference in the household. To 
her, friendship was above all material condi- 
tions. As she felt concerning such matters, 
she took it for granted that all right-minded 
people must feel. She could not conceive the 
thought that Helen, as her friend, could be 
critical of the plain old-fashioned home where 
she and Aunt Debhy were the home-makers. 
It was not training alone which gave Hester 
such impressions. She had within her the in- 


336 HESTEE’S COUNTEEPAET 


stinct of true nobility. She gave the best of 
what was hers without apology or explana- 
tion. She took it for granted that her offerings 
would be received in the same spirit. They 
were, for Helen Loraine valued a friend 
higher than the friend’s possessions. 

“I am very glad I asked you to forgive me, 
last Saturday,” continued Helen. She was 
bending over the drawer of the chiffonier while 
she robbed it of its contents. “I could not 
have been happy had I gone home and not have 
made friends with you. It was my fault, Hes- 
ter, that you did not play as a substitute on 
the first team. I thought something, and I told 
Miss Watson that I did not care to have you 
play. You do not know how sorry I have been 
since.” 

“Yes, I do. There, I think I have all my 
shoes ready to pack. Those old gym shoes I 
might as well throw out as rubbish. Yes, I 
do know, Helen. I felt dreadfully about it 
myself; but I thought you had a good reason. 
I myself despise a girl who prevaricates even 
a little.” 

Helen raised her head from her work to 


HESTEE’S COUNTEEPART 


337 


look at Hester. She could not fully grasp this 
last remark. 

Hester, catching the peculiar expression of 
her friend’s face continued, “You did not tell 
me why you were hurt with me. Of course I 
knew. It was what I said about my father 
being Aunt Hebby’s brother. That was it, was 
it not?” 

‘ ‘ What an idea, you silly little Hester ! Why 
should I be angry with you for saying that? 
What was it to me whether he was Miss Alden’s 
brother or not ? ’ ’ 

“I thought you knew and despised me for 
telling what was not true. I am not one bit 
an Alden. I do not belong to Aunt Debby ex- 
cept through love. My mother died at the 
Alden home. Somehow, I never could quite 
grasp all the story, for no one will tell me all. 
Somehow, Aunt Debby felt herself responsible 
and she took me and gave me her mother’s 
name. Don ’t you think that very sweet of her ? 
To Aunt Debby, Hester Palmer Alden was the 
name she loved the most and she gave it to 
me.” 

“Yes, she must have loved you, too, or she 


338 HESTEE’S COUNTERPAET 


would never have given you that name. It 
was not what you said that caused me to be 
displeased with you. Shall I tell you?” 

Hester shook her head slowly. She was yet 
sitting on the floor near the door of the closet. 
All about her, were odds and ends of her pos- 
sessions. 

“No, do not tell me. I know I did not do 
anything else to make you despise me. So 
please don’t tell me what it was. Whatever it 
was, I did not do it and I might feel hurt if I 
knew that you suspected me of anything very 
bad.” 

“Very well, little roommate. We’ll never 
talk about the matter. We’ll clean off our 
slates and make them clean for the next lesson, ’ ’ 
said Helen. “That is what Miss Mary used to 
tell us when we went to primary grade.” 

“I always liked to hear you say ‘little room- 
mate.’ Next year, Helen, you will not be here 
to say it. I wonder who will call me that.” 
The tears were near Hester’s eyes, but she 
forced them back and smiled. 

“Perhaps, someone nicer than I and some- 
one you will love better.” 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


339 


“That will never be. It couldn’t be. But 
you’ll come back to visit?” 

“I do not think it will be possible. Father 
says I may go to an eastern college. That will 
take me far from here. I do not wish to go 
four years. I intend taking special work; for 
I mean to be a settlement worker.” 

Hester nodded. Just then she could not have 
said a word if her life had depended upon it. 
She thought that Helen’s giving up a life of 
ease and luxury to work among the people of 
the slums, was a glorious thing; although she 
herself could not have done such a thing and 
had no desires in that direction. 

“It will be lovely, Helen,” she said at last. 
“Perhaps when. you are working somewhere I 
shall come to visit you.” 

“Perhaps you may be working with me. 
Who knows?” 

“I know I shall never be that kind of a 
worker. I intend to be a novelist. Perhaps, I 
shall find a great deal of material when I come 
down to visit you. I think being a great novel- 
ist would be glorious.” 

“Yes, if one could be great and could write 


340 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


life as it is and make people better by the writ- 
ing. ’ ’ 

“That is tbe kind I intend being,” said 
Hester with conviction, and yet not conceit. 
“I shall be a great one or none at all. I 
never should like mere commonplace writing. 
I should like to imagine ; to look at people and 
describe them as they were, and to see even 
their thoughts.” 

Helen laughed. Hester had already won a 
reputation in character-description. She had 
the faculty of describing her friends in a few 
pertinent words which meant as much as an 
entire paragraph from some people. 

“I think your character-drawing will be ex- 
cellent,” said Helen. “You have a way with 
you, you know.” 

“Do you really think so? Aunt Debby says 
I am critical, but I do not mean to be that. 
People just naturally make me think of differ- 
ent things. I see a likeness. I cannot help 
it that it is there. Aunt Debby was once quite 
indignant when I was telling her about the dif- 
ferent girls at school. I said Josephine made 
me think of soft-A sugar. Aunt Debby did not 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 341 


like it. But that is what she made me think 
of. I couldn’t help it.” 

Hester was quite serious. Although the re- 
mark concerning Josephine was her own, she 
did not fully appreciate her own wit in the ap- 
plication. 

Hester arose slowly. ‘ ‘ That closet is cleared, 
thank goodness. I’ll see to the trifles on the 
dressing-table. I’d rather pack big things than 
such trifles as hairpins, handkerchiefs, and 
stockings.” 

“I am ready to put mine in the trunk,” said 
Helen. As she spoke, she drew the trunk from 
against the wall and lifted out the tray. She 
gave an exclamation as her eyes fell on a quan- 
tity of lawn and lace. 

“I’ve hunted everywhere for those waists,” 
she said. “I went to the laundry several times 
to ask Mrs. Pellesee if they had been mislaid. 
I was confident that they had not come back 
from the laundry.” 

She made a dive into the depths of the trunk 
and brought forth the shirtwaists. 

“I remember now when I put them there. 
When I got my new one-piece suit to wear to 


342 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 


dinner, I put these away. It was the night I 
lost my pin.” 

“Yes,” said Hester without turning her 
head. Her mind was upon putting the con- 
tents of her dressing-table in order. She 
scarcely heard what Helen was saying. 

Helen gave a second exclamation as her hands 
seized the fluff of lace about one waist ; for the 
pin which she had missed months before was 
fastened to the lace. 

“I found my pin!” she exclaimed. “I am 
glad — so glad! Look, Hester!” 

Hester gave a quick indifferent glance to- 
ward Helen’s upraised hand in which the stone 
glittered like a star. 

“I’m glad,” she said. “I thought it was 
very strange what became of it. I couldn’t 
understand how it would disappear from the 
room. I have a pin something like that — but 
mine is just a cheap imitation. Aunt Debby 
says it is the kind one buys at a five-and-ten- 
cent store.” 

For a moment, Helen stood silent. She was 
abashed and ashamed of the suspicion which 
she had long held in her mind. She had done 


HESTER’S COUNTERPART 343 


wrong ; but on the other band, she had done 
what she could to make matters right. It 
pleased her even now to know that she had 
asked Hester’s forgiveness and had believed in 
her, before the proofs of her innocence came 
to hand. It is a worthless sort of faith and 
a poor friendship which needs evidence at hand. 
Faith is faith only when it believes without 
proof, or against proof. These thoughts came 
to Helen while she stood with the pin in her 
hand. Then she crossed to where Hester stood 
and laying her hand on Hester’s shoulder, said, 
“Little roommate, to-night will be our last 
night together in school. Will you try to think 
with kindness of the roommate who was unjust 
to you? You have taught me one great big 
lesson, Hester, and that is that one cannot 
even believe her eyes. Will you forget all the 
unpleasant part of the year, and remember only 
that I really loved you with it all?” 

“That will be easy. It will be but thinking 
kindly of myself. For every one says that you 
are my counterpart.” 

“A poor imitation, I am afraid. If I predict 
rightly the years will prove me but the reflection 


344 HESTER’S COUNTERPART 

of a great and a brighter body. You’ll be the 
sun, Hester. The best I’ll ever be is a pale 
little moon.” She bent to kiss Hester’s lips. 
With that caress all the suspicion and doubt 
vanished and Hester Alden’s year at school 
had closed. 


THE END 


DOROTHY BROWN 

By NINA RHOADES 

Illustrated by Elizabeth Withington Large 12mo 
Cloth $1.50 

T his is considerably longer than the other 
books by this favorite writer, and with a 
more elaborate plot, but it has the same win- 
some quality throughout. It introduces the 
heroine in New York as a little girl of eight, 
but soon passes over six years and finds her at 
a select family boarding school in Connecticut. 
An important part of the story also takes place 
at the Profile House in the White Mountains. 
The charm of school-girl friendship is finely 
brought out, and the kindness of heart, good 
sense and good taste which find constant ex- 
pression in the books by Miss Rhoades do not 
lack for characters to show these best of 
qualities by their lives. Other less admirable 
persons of course appear to furnish the alluring mystery, which is not 
all cleared up until the very last. 

“There will be no better book than this to put into the hands of a g^irl in 
her teens and none that will be better appreciated by her .” — Kennebec Journal, 

MARION’S VACATION 

By NINA RHOADES 

Illustrated by Bertha Q. Davidson 12nio Cloth $1.25 

'^HIS book is for the older girls, Marion 
^ being thirteen. She has for ten years 
enjoyed a luxurious home in New York with 
the kind lady who feels that the time has now 
come for this aristocratic though lovable little 
miss to know her own nearest kindred, who 
are humble but most excellent farming people 
in a pretty Vermont village. Thither Marion 
is sent for a summer, which proves to be a 
most important one to her in all its lessons. 

More wholesome reading for half grown girls 
it would be hard to find; some of the same lessons 
that proved so helpful in that classic of the last 
generation ‘An Old Fashioned Girl* are brought 
home to the youthful readers of this sweet and 
sensible story .’* — Milwauhee Free Press, 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
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LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 




BRAVE HEART SERIES 

By Adele £♦ Thompson 


Betty Seldon, Patriot 

Illustrated i2mo Cloth $1.25 

A BOOK that is at the same time fascinating and noble. Historical 
events are accurately traced leading up to the surrender of Corn- 
wallis at Yorktown, with reunion and happiness for all who deserve ft, 

B rave Heart Elizabeth 

Illustrated i2mo Cloth $1.25 

is a story of the making of the Ohio frontier, much of it taken from 
life, and the heroine one of the famous Zane family after which Zanes- 
ville, O., takes its name. An accurate, pleasing, and yet at times intensely 
thrilling picture of the stirring period of border settlement, 

A Lassie of the Isles 

Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy 
i2rno Cloth $1.25 

T his is the romantic story of Flora Macdonald, 
the lassie of Skye, who aided in the escape of 
Charles Stuart, otherwise known as the “Young 
Pretender,** for which she suffered arrest, but 
which led to signal honor through her sincerity 
and attractive personality. 

Polly of the Pines 


Illustrated by 

Henry Roth Cloth 12 mo $1.25 

it pOLLY OF THE PINES** was Mary 
I Dunning, a brave girl of the Caro- 
linas, and the events of the story occur in 
the years 1775-82. Polly was an orphan 
living with her mother’s family, who were 
Scotch Highlanders, and for the most part 
intensely loyal to the Crown. Polly finds 
the glamor of royal adherence hard to resist, 
but her heart turns towards the patriots and 
she does much to aid and encourage them. 




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V 


One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



